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SECTION III 

THE ENGLISH DRAMA 

FROM ITS BEGINNING TO THE PRESENT DAY 



GENERAL EDITOR 

GEORGE PIERCE BAKER 

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN 
HARVARD UNIVERSITY 




TAM HARTl aVAN JJERCVRIO:- 



GEORGE GASCOIGNE 

From the only contemporary portrait, in the fir it edition of 

' The Stele Glas ' {i57(>) 

The arquebuss with pouches for powder and shot on one side, and 
the books with pen and ink on the other, illustrate the martial and 
literary exploits which are also recalled in the motto. 



SUPPOSES 

AND 

JOCASTA 



TWO PLAYS TRANSLATED FROM 
THE ITALIAN, THE FIRST BY GEO. 
GASCOIGNE, THE SECOND BY GEO. 
GASCOIGNE AND F. KINWELMERSH 



EDITED BY 



JOHN W. CUNLIFFE, D.Lit. (London) 

ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH AT MCGILL UNIVERSITY 
MONTREAL, CANADA 



BOSTON, U.S.A., AND LONDON 

D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 

1906 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

NOV 80 J906 

, CoDvriffht Entry 
CLASS A XXc, No. 
COPY B, 






COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY D. C, HKATH & CO. 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



^f-i- 



•Bioempi^t 



George Gascoigne was the son and heir of Sir John Gascoigne, 
of Cardington, Bedfordshire, but was disinherited on account of 
youthful excesses. He left Cambridge University without a degree, 
entered Gray's Inn in 1555, and represented the County of Bedford 
in Parliament 1557-9. He was notorious for his riotous behaviour,^ 
spent all he had, and made the acquaintance of the debtors' prison. 
In the **myddest of his youth," he "determined to abandone all 
vaine delightes and to returne unto Greyes Inn, there to undertake 
againe the studdie of the common Lawes." He paid the fines for 
his neglected terms, and was " called ancient " in 1565. He trans- 
lated the Supposes and (along with Francis Kinwelmersh) the 
Jocasta, which were presented at Gray's Inn in 1566. Probably 
about this time he married the rich widow whose children by her 
first marriage brought a suit for the protection of their interests in 
1568. Gascoigne returned to his evil courses as " a man of middle 
age," if we are to accept the evidence of his autobiographical poem 

I Gabriel Harvey, in the second of Foure Letters (1592), has the follow- 
ing: " I once bemoned the decayed and blasted estate of M. Gascoigne : 
who wanted not some commendable parts of conceit and endeavour: but 
unhappy M. Gascoigne, how lordly happy in comparison of most un- 
happy M. Greene." (Grosart's edition, vol. i, pp. 170-171.) Harvey has 
another reference, of no less interest as indicating his opinion of Gas- 
coigne's personal character and literary abilities, in Pierces Supererogation 
(159?): "Had he [Nashe] begun to Aretinize, when Elderton began 
to ballat, Gascoine to sonnet, Turberville to madrigal, Drant to versify, 
or Tarleton to extemporise, some parte of his phantasticall bibble-babbles 
and capricious panges might have bene tollerated in a greene and wild 
youth : but the winde is chaunged, and there is a busier pageant upon the 
stage. M. Aschams Toxophilus long sithens shot at a fairer marke : and 
M. Gascoigne himselfe, after some riper experience, was glad to trye 
other conclusions in the Lowe Countryes ; and bestowed an honorable 
commendation upon Sir Humfrye Gilbertes gallant discourse of a discovery 
for a newe passage to the East Indyes." (Grosart, vol. 11, p. 96.) The 
whole passage (which may also be consulted in Mr. Gregory Smith's 
Elizabethan Critical Essays, vol. II, pp. 261-2) is worthy of attention as 
the record of the distinction made by an acute contemporary critic be- 
tween the early part of Elizabeth's reign, in which Gascoigne's activity 
lay, and the later period in which Harvey himself was writing. 



vi ^iograpl)^ 

Dan Bartholomeiu of Bathe, and in May, 1572, he was prevented 
from taking his seat in Parliament by a petition alleging : 

' ' Firste, he is indebted to a greate nomber of personnes for the 
which cause he hathe absented him selfe from the Citie and hath 
lurked at Villages neere unto the same Citie by a longe time, and 
nowe beinge returned for a Burgesse of Midehurste in the Countie 
of Sussex doethe shewc his face openlie in the dispite of all his cred- 
itors. ' ' 

*' Item he is a defamed person and noted as well for manslaughter 
as for other greate cryemes." 

*' Item he is a common Rymer and a deviser of slaunderous Pas- 
quelles against divers personnes of greate callinge." 

' ' Item he is a notorious Ruffianne and especiallie noted to be 
bothe a Spie, an Atheist and Godles personne," 

The allegations need not be accepted as well-founded, the main 
object of the petition being evidently to prevent Gascoigne from ob- 
taining protection against his creditors. In March, 1573, he sailed 
for the Low Countries, and soon after an edition of his works was 
issued, professedly surreptitious, but, as he afterwards admitted, pub- 
lished with his knowledge and consent. ^ The Ad-ventures of Master 
F. y. caused scandal by supposed references to persons of high rank, 
and some of the amorous poesies, written by Gascoigne for himself 
or others, also gave offence. In Holland a " loving letter " from a 
lady at the Hague, then in the hands of the Spaniards, involved him 
in suspicion, but William of Orange accepted his assurances of fidel- 

I The title-page of this edition bears no date ; the prefatory letter is 
dated August, 1572, and this is commonly accepted as the year of publi- 
cation ; but 1573 seems more likely. The question is complicated by the 
conflicting dates of the prefatory epistles of the edition of 1575 ; that ad- 
dressed to the reverende divines is dated the last day of January, 1574, and 
in it Gascoigne says : " It is very neere two yeares past since (I beeing in 
Hollande in service with the vertuous Prince of Orange) the most part of 
the Posies were imprinted." The epistle to al yong Gentlemen^ which 
immediately follows, is dated January 2nd, 1575, and it seems probable 
that it was at the beginning of this year that the revised volume was 
prepared for the press. This would give 1573 as the date of the earlier 
edition, and this view is confirmed by references to events in the Low 
Countries (the capture of Brill, April ist, 1572, and the siege of Haarlem, 
December, 1572 — July 12, 1573) in Gascoigne^ s voyage into Hollande. The 
date given for this in the heading of the poem is "^n. iST^-^^ but it must 
mean March, IS7§. This poem appears to have been sent over by Gas- 
coigne to his publisher after his arrival in Holland. 



115iograpt)^ vii 

ity and allowed him to go under a safe conduct to recover the 
portrait of himself he had left in the lady's hands. He suffered ship- 
wreck, saw a good deal of service, and was four months a Spanish 
prisoner, returning home in October, 1574. In 1575 he printed a 
revised and expurgated edition of his works, and set himself in good 
earnest to retrieve fame and fortune. He published an extremely- 
moral play The Glasse of Gcvernment (1575) ; his well known sat- 
ire The Steele Glasse ; a prefatory epistle to Sir Humphrey Gilbert's 
Discourse of a Disco-verie for a neiv Passage to Cataia ,• The Droome 
of Doomes Daye (in part a translation of Innocent Ill's De Contemptu 
Mundi si-ve ae Miseria Humanae Conditionis) j and A Delicate Diet 
for Daintie Mouthde Droonkardes (all in 1 5 76). In 1575 he was 
employed by Leicester to compose a Masque of Zabeta and other 
elaborate compliments to the Queen on the occasion of her famous 
visit to Kenilworth. At Woodstock he ' ' pronounced the Tale of 
Hemetes the Heremyte'''' to Her Majesty and the following January 
presented versions of it in French, Latin, and Italian to her as a 
New Year's gift, with a request for employment. The request was 
evidently granted, for his next New Year's gift, The Grief of Joy e, 
is offered as witness " how the interims and vacant hours of those 
dales which I spent this somer in your service have byn bestowed." 
Probably he was the George Gascoigne who in November, 1576, 
received £zQ for '* bringinge of Lettres in post for her Majesties 
affaires frome Andwarpe to Hampton Court." He may have been 
the author of The Spoyle of Antiverpe Faithfully reported by a true 
Englishman ivho ivas present at the same, printed anonymously in 
that month; but this is uncertain. In May, 1576, he describes 
himself as **in weake plight for health," and on Oct. 7, 1577, after 
an illness of some months, he died, recommending his wife and son 
to the Queen's favour. 

Francis Kinwelmersh, who translated acts i and iv of Jocasta, 
was Gascoigne's friend and fellow student at Gray's Inn, which he 
entered in 1557. He appears to have been elected member for Bos- 
siney, Cornwall, in 1572, and to have died about 1580. Some of 
his poems were included in The Paradyse of Daynty Devises (1576) ; 
and in the preface to Bel'vedere, or the Garden of the Muses (1600), 
he is mentioned among those who ** being deceased, have left divers 
extant labours, and many more held back from publishing, which 



viii ^iograpt)^ 

for the most part have been perused, and their due right here given 
them in the Muses Garden." 

Christopher Yelverton, who wrote the epilogue to Jocasta, en- 
tered Gray's Inn in 1552. He sat in several Elizabethan Parliaments 
and in 1597 was elected Speaker. He was made justice of the king's 
bench in 1602, and knighted the following year, dying " of very 
age" in 16 12. Jasper Heywood, in the metrical preface to his 
translation of Seneca's Thyestes (1560), celebrating the disciples of 
Melpomene at the Inns of Court, praises Yelverton as a writer of 
** ditties " along with Sackville and Norton : 

" such yong men three 
As weene thou mightst agayne, 
To be begotte as Pallas was 
Of myghtie Jove his braync." 



9Intfoti«ctton 

The justice of the term ** The ItaHan Renascence," 
as applied to European literature is nowhere better ex- 
emplified than in the history of the drama. It was at 
Padua that Albertino Mussato, at the beginning of the 
fourteenth century, took the first step towards the re- 
vival of this form of art by the composition of an origi- 
nal Latin tragedy, the Ecerinis. It was on Italian 
stages that the dramas of the ancients were first repro- 
duced after the long lapse of the Middle Ages. ItaHan 
writers first made the important step of composing 
dramas in the vernacular on subjects taken in some 
cases from the life of their own day. Italian critics 
first laid down the rules of dramatic art which under 
the name of the Three Unities provoked so much dis- 
cussion at a later day. 

The principal centre of this new born dramatic 
activity was Ferrara, though it was shared by every 
httle court and city ambitious for Renascence culture. 
Even at such an obscure retreat as Gazzuolo, Lodo- 
vico Gonzaga, bishop-elect of Mantua, importuned his 
friends for texts and translations of Plautus, brocade 
and tapestries to deck the stage, the only consolations 
of his voluntary exile being, as he himself says, * ' wine 
and play-acting. ' ' ^ But Ferrara was the leader of the 

' lo non penso se non a vino et representar comedie, Commedie 
classkhe in Gazzuolo nel i^oi-J. Umberto Rossi in Giornale Storico 
della Letteratura Italiana. Vol. xiii. 



X JlntroUuction 

movement and will serve us best as an exemplar of its 
progress. Hercules I deserves remembrance as the 
Msecenas of Renascence drama. The first record in 
the Diario ferrarese ' of the acting of a classical play- 
is in i486, when the Menaechmi of Plautus was given 
in the court yard on a wooden stage, with five battle- 
mented houses, each provided with a window and a 
door, — and the cost of the said festival came to more 
than 1000 ducats. The chronicler Zambotti adds that 
ten thousand people looked on with silent attention 
(con gran taciturnita. ) Next year the Amphitryon 
was to be presented with equal magnificence, but the 
performance was interrupted by rain, and had to be 
given up at five o'clock instead of lasting till nine. 
This was probably the reason w^hy in 1491 we find 
the scene transferred to the great hall. The Milanese 
ambassadors, who were present, sent an elaborate ac- 
count of the performance to their Duke. Near the 
middle of the hall, seats were arranged in tiers, in view 
of four castles, from which the actors issued : first came 
one who told the substance of the comedy (the Me?iae- 
chmi') which was played with so much skill and grace 
that all were loud in their praises. In the intervals three 
intermezzi were given, and these were very fine : the 
first was a Morris dance with torches ; the second, 
Apollo with the Nine Muses ; the third, a Morris 
dance of peasants with implements of labour, who 

^ Rerum Italicarum Scriptores (Ed. Muratori, 1738), vol. xxiv. 
The portions of Zambotti' s Diary referring to the drama have re- 
cently been collected by G. Pardi under the title, // teatro classko 
a Ferrara {^Atti della deputazione ferrarese di storia patria, vol. xv.) 



3(lntroDuction xi 

made their exit over each other's shoulders, to the 
great amusement of the spectators. Finally, the two 
Menaechmi having recognized each other, one of them 
put all his goods up by auction, offering to sell them 
for I 700 ounces of gold with his wife thrown in, and 
every one who had a wife that did not suit him was 
advised to do the same.^ These accompaniments of 
classical comedy excited greater interest in the minds 
of some of the spectators than the play itself. Bembo, 
who was at the Carnival at Ferrara in 1499, makes 
mention only of the plays. Writing to his friend 
Angelo Gabrieli to let him know what he has missed, 
he says that three comedies were acted, two of Plau- 
tus, the Trinummus and the PoenuluSy and one of 
Terence, the Eunuchus ; the last gave so much pleas- 
ure that it was repeated a second and even a third 
time. 2 But Jano Pencaro,3 writing to Isabella d' Este 
Gonzaga, to describe the festival, says very little about 
the comedies, and gives elaborate accounts of the in- 
termezzi. Isabella was so much interested that she 
came over from Mantua a few weeks later and enjoyed 
a private representation of the three comedies, select- 
ing the Eunuchus for public repetition. In her letters 

^ Nozze e commedie alia corte di Ferrara nel Febbraio I4gi — 
Archi'vio storico lombardo. Serie seconda. Vol. 1. Anno xi, pp. 
751-3 (Anno XI. Milano, 1884). 

2 Epistolae Familiares, lib. i, no. 18 : Nam ut scias quibus 
te voluptatibus defraudaveris, tres fabulae actae sunt per hos dies, 
Plautinae duae, Trinummus et Pemilus, et una Terentii, Eunuchus: 
quae quidem ita placuit, ut etiam secundo et tertio sit relata. 

3 Commedie classiche in Ferrara nel 24gg. A. Luzio and R. 
Renierin Giornale Storico della Letteratura Italiana, xi, 177-189. 



xii 3(lntrot)uction 

to her husband, it must be acknowledged, she says 
much more about the intermezzi than about the come- 
dies, though she shared the family passion for the 
drama, and had Plautus and Terence, and even Seneca, 
in her library. 

Not to be altogether outdone by Ferrara, Mantua 
held a dramatic festival at the Carnival of 1501. Sigis- 
mondo Cantelmo, writing to the Duke of Ferrara, 
gives a full descripdon of the hall used as a theatre ; it 
was adorned with pictures by Mantegna, six of the 
triumph of Cssar (probably part of the series at 
Hampton Court) on one side, and the triumphs of 
Petrarch below and in front of the stage (Dintorno 
alia scena al frontespitio da basso). The plays were 
beautifully and charmingly acted — on Friday the Pbi- 
lonico ; on Saturday, the Poenulus of Plautus ; on Sunday 
the Hippoiytus ; on Monday the Adelphi of Terence, 
all recited in the very best style by competent actors to 
the very great pleasure and appreciation of the spectators.' 

Mantua was, however, far outshone by Ferrara in 
the following year, when Lucrezia Borgia was wel- 
comed as the bride of Alfonso d' Este with entertain- 
ments of unprecedented magnificence. Of these we 

* " Le recitationi sonno state belle et delectevole : Venere fo Phi- 
lonico : Sabato il Penulo de Plauto : Domenica lo Hippolito : Lu- 
nedi li Adelphi de Terentio, da persone docte recitate optimamente 
con grandissima volupta et plausi de spectator!. " — // teatro manto- 
•vano nel secolo xvi. Alessandro D'Ancona in Giornale Storico v, 
VI, and vii, afterwards reprinted with additions in Origini del teatro 
italiano as Appendix 11, vol. 11, p. 349 (ed. 1891). Perhaps for 
Philonico we should read Philodicui : on this point see D' Ancona 
u. s. p. 381. 



^introduction xiii 

have several contemporary accounts, but by far the 
most interesting is that of Isabella d' Este Gonzaga in 
her letters to her husband, w^ho stayed at Mantua. 
She gives first a description of the great hall in the 
Palazzo della Ragione, to which her father took her 
to show her the preparations he had made for the plays. 
On one side seats were arranged in tiers, with two 
aisles to divide the women from the men, the women 
sitting in the middle and the men at the sides. Oppo- 
site the seats, on the other side of the hall, was a castle 
made of wood, with battlements like the walls of a 
city, and about the height of a man : upon this were 
the six houses for the comedies. (Evidently the stage 
was still that of the Sacre Rappresentazioni). The 
theatre, it was calculated, would hold about 5,000 
persons : the seats were for visitors, and the gentle- 
men of Ferrara would be accommodated as far as there 
was room for them — a needful limitation, as the 
population of Ferrara about this time was estimated 
at 100,000. In later letters the Marchioness tells her 
husband about the performance of the plays — five 
Plautine comedies, Epidicus, BacchideSy Miles Glori- 
osusy Asinariay Casina. The Epidicus did not please 
the Marchioness, but she liked the intermezzi, which 
she describes at some length. The Bacchides she found 
tiresome: it was too long, and there were only two 
Morris dances : she wished she were at home with her 
husband and her little boy.* 

* Noti'xie di Isabella Estense. Documenti LXVII-LXXIII. 
Conte Carlo d'Arco in Archivio Storico Italiano Appendice No. II 
(vol, II of Appendices to Series i. Firenze, 1845). 



xiv 31ntwiJuctfon 

Hercules I died in 1505, and his son, Alfonso I, 
was fonder of casting cannon than of seeing plays ; but 
he was not without interest in the drama, and this in- 
terest was encouraged and supplemented by the enthu- 
siasm of his brother. Cardinal Ippolito d' Este, who 
numbered among his suite a young Ferrarese poet and 
courtier, Lodovico Ariosto. Ariosto's interest in the 
drama began almost in his childhood. A room is still 
shown to visitors in his father's house at Ferrara, where 
as a boy he acted plays of his own composition with 
the help of his brothers.^ This was in the early days 
of the dramatic revival, when plays on classical sub- 
jects were being acted, but their form and manner of 
presentation were still those of the Sacre Rappresenta- 
zioni ; the most notable example of this mixed type 
was VoXvLidLno's favola di Orfeo (acted at Mantua in 
1 47 1 ) before it was re-cast into more regular tragic 
form by Tebaldeo. Later Ariosto became the acknow- 
ledged leader of the classical school of comedy, and 
the chief agent of Alfonso I in his various dramatic 
projects. As early as 1493 he was among the youths 
who accompanied Duke Hercules and Don Alfonso to 
Milan to introduce classical comedy at the court of Lo- 
dovico Sforza and Beatrice d' Este. At different times 
he translated plays of Terence and Plautus for the dra- 
matic festivals then so much in vogue ; he planned the 
theatre built by Alfonso I, a splendid edifice which was 
burnt down on the first day of Ariosto's fatal illness ; 
he superintended the production of the plays and some- 
times took part in the acting,^ occupying a position 

^ I Romanzi. G. B. Pigna. Venice. 1554. p. 72. 
* See his brother Gabriele's prologue to the Scolastica. 



3llntroDuction xv 

apparently very similar to that of the Master of the 
Revels at the English Court. But his great and lasting 
service to the drama was the composition of his come- 
dies, the first of which, the Cass aria y was acted at 
Ferrara in 1508. It was remarkable, not only as the 
first modern drama, but as giving occasion for the first 
recorded use of modern scenery. Bernardino Prosperi, 
in a letter to Isabella Gonzaga, mentions as the great 
feature of the entertainments the wonderful scenery 
painted by Pellegrino da Udine, a landscape in per- 
spective with houses, churches, steeples, and gardens 
that the audience never tired of looking at : he thinks 
it will not be thrown aside, but kept for use another 
time.' 

Ariosto's first play was closely followed by the one 
in which we are particularly interested, Gli Soppositiy^ 
adjudged by competent Italian critics to be the best of 
his five comedies. It was acted at the carnival of i 509, 
and we are again indebted to Prosperi' s letter to the 
Marchioness of Mantua for an account of the perfor- 
mance : ** On Thursday evening the Cardinal pre- 
sented his comedy, composed by Lodovico Ariosto, 
for a modern comedy quite delightful and full of wise 

^ The whole question of the origin of modern scenery has been 
treated by Eduard Flechsig in Die Dekoration der modernen Biihne 
in Italien 'von den Anfdngen bis "zum Schluss des xvi. Jahrhunderti 
(Dresden, 1894) and by G. Ferrari in La Scenografia (Milano, 
1902). The transition from mediaeval to modern stage-setting has 
been discussed recently by Messrs. Rigal, Lanson, and Haraszti in 
La re-vue d^ histoire litteraire de la France (1903— 5) and by Dr. 
G. F. Reynolds in Modern Philology (1904-5). 

^ So the earlier prose version appears to have been called. 



xvi introduction 

sayings and laughable speeches and gestures with triple 
deceits or substitutions. The argument was recited by 
the author, and is very fine, admirably adapted to our 
manners and customs, for the incidents happened at 
Ferrara, so he pretends, as I think that perhaps your 
Ladyship has heard, and therefore I do not go on to 
narrate it at greater length. The intermezzi were all 
of songs and music, and at the end of the comedy Vul- 
can with the Cyclops forged arrows to the sound of 
fifes, beating time with hammers and with bells at- 
tached to their legs, and having finished this business 
of the arrows with the blowing of bellows, they made 
a Morris dance with the said hammers." ^ 

About the same time that classical comedy was re- 
vived at Ferrara, similar performances were given at 
Florence ^ and Rome ; but both these cities lacked the 
stimulus of a dynasty continuously interested in the 
drama. The performances at Rome were in Latin, 
and were due to the initiative of the great classical 
scholar, Pomponius Laetus.3 But it was not until the 
great Medicean Pope, Leo X, came to the throne, that 
the Rom.an court vied with Ferrara in the splendour 

^ The writer's meaning is sometimes doubtful. See the Italisn 
text in the Notes, p. 107. 

^ Di altre recitazioni di commedie latine in Firenze nel secoh 
XV. Isidore Del Lungo in Archi'vio Storico Ita/iano, Serie 3a, 
Tom. XXIII. Anno 1876, pp. 170—5. 

3 Pomponii Laeti Vita. M. Antonius Sabellicus. " Pari studio 
veterem spectandi consuetudinem desuetae civitati restituit, primo- 
rum antistitum atriis pro theatro usus, in quibus Plauti, Terentii, 
recentiorum etiam quaedam agerentur fabulae, quas ipse honestos 
adolescentes et docuit et agentibus praefuit." 



31ntroiJuction xvii 

of its dramatic performances. Ariosto had declined to 
follow his patron. Cardinal Ippolito, into Hungary, and 
was induced to re- write the Suppositi in verse for repre- 
sentation at Rome. A letter to Alfonso d'Este from 
Alfonso Pauluzzo, dated March 8, 15 19, gives a full 
account of the performance, which took place on a 
Sunday evening in the palace of the Pope's nephew. 
Cardinal Cibo. His Holiness himself took charge of 
the door, and with quiet dignity admitted whom he 
would. On one side of the hall was the stage, on the 
other the seats graded from the ceiling to the floor. In 
front was the seat of the Pontifex, approached by five 
steps, and surrounded by places for the ambassadors 
and cardinals according to their rank; in all there were 
about 2000 people present. The curtain fell to the 
sound of fifes, and the Pope with his eye-glass admired 
the scene, which was very beautiful, painted by Ra- 
phael, and representing Ferrara ^ in perspectives, which 
were highly praised. The Pope also admired the beau- 
tiful representation of the sky and the chandeliers, 
formed in letters, which supported five torches each, 
and read LEO X. PON. MAXIMUS. Then the 
Prologue came on the stage and recited the argument, 
which made jesting allusion to the scene and title of 
the comedy, so that the Pope laughed gaily enough 
with the by-standers, although some Frenchmen were 
scandalized at the jokes about the Suppositi. The 
comedy was well spoken, with musical interludes after 
each act. The last intermezzo was a Morris dance 

^ AdemoUo's reading of the text, which will be found in the 
Notes y pp. 107-08. 



xviii 3Introtiuction 

representing the story of Gorgon, and was very fine, 
but not equal, in the opinion of the Ferrarese courtier, 
to those he had seen in the hall of his master. There 
was a great crush coming out, and Pauluzzo nearly 
broke his leg, so that he had to cry out guarda la mia 
gamba. There was much talk of Messer Lodovico 
Ariosto and of his excellence in this art; but some 
thought it was a pity that indecent speeches should be 
made in the presence of His Holiness; ** and indeed " 
adds Pauluzzo ** at the beginning of the comedy there 
are some passages which are rather blue ' ' ( alcune pa- 
role rematice). 

Attention has been called to the conditions under 
which these plays were acted in order that the reader 
may realize the position held by the drama in the court 
life of the Italian Renascence. Englishmen travelling 
in Italy could not fail to hear of these spectacles and 
talk of them after their return home. The rise of court 
comedy in London may be safely attributed to Italian 
example, for those who had not had the opportunity 
of seeing Ariosto' s comedies could read them in the 
numerous editions published before Elizabeth's acces- 
sion. The type of Italian classical comedy of which 
the Suppositi is the best example was accepted as the 
model for Ariosto' s successors. Giraldi Cinthio writes 
in his Discorso sulle Comedie e sulk Tragedie that 
"the only comedies worthy of praise to-day . . . 
are those which imitate the comedies of Ariosto." ' 

" Ed. G. Daelli, p. 23 : **Tra noi oggidi le lodevoli sono di 
una sola maniera, e sono quelle che imitano quelle dell' Ariosto." 
Aretino and Cecchi give Ariosto the highest praise in their prologues, 



3|ntroliuction xix 

Indeed the type invented by Ariosto was admirably 
adapted for the Italy of the sixteenth century. He 
acknowledged his indebtedness to Plautus and Ter- 
ence/ and this rather commended him to an age eager 
for classical culture and proud of its acquirements. 
The chief characters of Latin comedy were taken over 
bodily, but skilfully adapted to modern conditions of 
society, and placed in surroundings familiar to the 
spectators. Bibbiena's Calandra (1513)2 and Machia- 
velli's Mandr agora (1525) showed with what vigour 
and freedom contemporary Hfe could be pourtrayed 
within the limits of the new form of dramatic art. 
Grazzini indeed poked fun at the writers of new 
comedies which other people had made before, and 
scoffed at the authority of the classics. ** Aristotle and 

and a recent critic, Vincenzo De Amicis, describes the work of 
Ariosto as comprising in brief the whole history of Italian comedy 
(un riassunto di tutta la storia della commedia italiana). 

* See extract from Prologue to Gli Sopposid, on p. in. The 
actual borrowings in the play are given in Kehrli, In den Opere 
Minori des L. Ariosto, pp. 39-40. Guido Marpillero in the 
Giornale Storico della Letter atura Italiana, vol. xxxi, pp. 291— 
310, has shown that Ariosto was indebted to other Latin comedies 
beside the two he mentions. He takes not only the stock charac- 
ters — the greedy parasite, the scheming slave, the doting father — 
and familiar devices — lost children, disguises, and accidental re- 
cognitions — but particular jests and scraps of dialogue. He shows, 
however, genuine power to assimilate his material, and his added 
touches of local colour come easily and naturally into a play which 
is indeed a transition product, but is inspired throughout with his 
own graceful and vivacious wit. 

^ The date of this play was formerly put at 1504-8, preceding 
that of Ariosto' s first comedy, but the point was set beyond doubt 
by Vernarecci. See D'Ancona, 11, pp. 102-4. 



XX 3lntroDuctton 

Horace observed their own times, but ours are of an- 
other fashion. We have different customs, a different 
religion, a different manner of life, and therefore our 
comedies ought to be made in a different way. In 
Florence people don't live as they used to do in Athens 
and Rome. There are no slaves here, nor are we 
accustomed to adopted children, or to pimps who sell 
young girls." ^ . . . Cecchi made a similar appeal for 
a newer type of comedy in the Prologue to La Roma- 
nes c a .'2 but the plea fell on deaf ears or was supported 
by no voice powerful enough to make itself heard. 
Italian comedy dwindled for long years as a literary 
form; it was not until the eighteenth century that it 
was revived by the quick wit and facile pen of 
Goldoni. 

The grace and spirit (and perhaps, too, the licen- 
tiousness) of Ariosto's comedies commended them to 
foreigners as well as to his own countrymen. The 
English Puritan Gosson (who was himself the author, 
in his unregenerate days, of '* a cast of Italian devises, 
called The Comedie of Captaine Mario") shows by 
a passage in The Schoole of Abused that the new class- 

^ Prologue to La Strega (Venice, 1582), p. 7. Curiously- 
enough, in this very play Grazzini borrowed freely from the Sup- 
positi. See Delle Commedie di Grazzini, G. Gentile in Annali 
della R. Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa, vol. xix (1897), esp. 
pp. 87-100. 

^ Translated by Symonds. Shakspere'' s Predecessors (1884), 
pp. 260—1. 

^ * ' Here I doubt not but some Archeplayer or other that hath 
read a little or stumbled by chance upon Plautus Comedies, will 
cast mee a bone or two to pick, saying, that whatsoever these an- 



3|ntroDuction xxi 

ical comedy was well known in London in 1579, ^^^ 
Gascoigne's Supposes was doubtless among the ** han- 
dle comedies" translated out of the Italian he con- 
demns in P/ayes Confuted in Five Actions (1582), 
though he refers specially to the London playhouses, 
and so far as we know, the Supposes was presented 
only at Gray's Inn in 1566, and Trinity College, 
Oxford, in 1582.' Dr. Schiicking ^ has attempted to 
find earlier traces of Italian influence on English com- 
edy without much success: indeed Mr. R. Warwick 
Bond describes his thesis as ** somewhat of an effort to 
make bricks without straw." Undoubtedly the Sup- 
poses is at once the earliest and most important piece of 
evidence we have as to the relations between Italian 
and early English comedy. 3 With respect to its liter- 

cient writers have spoken against plaies is to be applied to the 
abuses in olde Comedies, where Gods are broughte in, as Prisoners 
to beautie, ravishers of Virgins, and servantes by love, to earthly crea- 
tures. But the Comedies that are exercised in our dayes are better 
sifted. They shewe no such branne : The first smelte of Plautus : 
These tast of Menander: The lewdenes of Gods, is altred and changed 
to the love of young men : force to friendshippe ; rapes to mar- 
iage : wooing allowed by assurance of wedding, privie meetinges 
of bachelours and maidens on the stage, not as murderers that de- 
voure the good name ech of other in their mindes, but as those 
that desire to bee made one in hearte. Nowe are the abuses of the 
worlde revealed, every man in a playe may see his owne faultes, 
and learne by this glasse, to amende his manners." Shakespeare 
Society, 184J, pp. 20—21. 

^ Diary of the Rev. Richard Madox, Oxon. (MS. in British 
Museum), 1582, Jan. 8. "So went we to Trinity . . . and after 
saw the Supposes handled in their hall indifferently." 

^ Die Stoffiichen Be%iehungen der Englischen Komodie ■zur 
Italienischen bis Lilly Halle, 1901. 

3 The Bugbears, an Italian adaptation apparently of somewhat 



xxii 3|ntroDuction 

ary merits an influence, I cannot do better than quote 
the admirable appreciation of Professor Gayley in the 
Historical View of English Comedy : 

*' If it were not for the fact that The Supposes (acted 
1566) is a translation of Ariosto's play of the same 
title, I should be inclined to say that it was the first 
English comedy in every way worthy of the name. It 
certainly is, for many reasons, entitled to be called the 
first comedy in the EngUsh tongue. It is written, not 
for children, nor to educate, but for grown-ups and 
solely to delight. It is done into English, not for the 
vulgar, but for the more advanced taste of the transla- 
tor's own Inn of Court; it has, therefore, qualities to 
captivate those who are capable of appreciating high 
comedy. It is composed, like its original, in straight- 
forward, sparkling prose. It has, also, the rarest fea- 
tures of the fusion drama: it combines character and 
situation, each depending upon the other; it combines 
wit of intellect with humour of heart and fact, intricate 
and varied plot with motive and steady movement, 
comic but not farcical incident and language with com- 
plications surprising, serious, and only not hopelessly 
embarrassing. It conducts a romantic intrigue in a 
realistic fashion through a world of actualities. With 
the blood of the New Comedy, the Latin Comedy, the 
Renaissance in its veins, it is far ahead of its English 
contemporaries, if not of its time. Without historical 
apology or artistic concessions it would act well to-day. 
Both whimsical and grave, its ironies are pro bono pub- 

later date, was not printed till 1897, when it appeared in Archiv 
fur das Studium der neueren Sprachen 98-99. 



3flntroOuction xxiii 

Uco; it is constructive as well as critical, imaginative 
as well as actual. Indeed, w^hen one compares Gas- 
coigne's work with the original and observes the just 
liberties that he has taken, the Englishing of sentiment 
as well as of phrase, one is tempted to say, with Tom 
Nashe, that in comedy, as in other fields, this writer 
first * beat a path to that perfection which our best 
poets have aspired to since his departure.' He did not 
contrive the plot; but no dramatist before him had se- 
lected for his audience, translated, and adapted a play 
so amusing and varied in interest, so graceful, simple, 
and idiomatic in its style. It was said by R. T., in 
1 615, that Gascoigne was one of those who first 
* broke the ice for our quainter poets who now write, 
that they may more safely swim through the main ocean 
of sweet poesy,' — a remark which would lose much of 
its force if restricted to the poet's achievements in sa- 
tire alone; in the drama of the humanists he excelled 
his contemporaries, and in the romantic comedy of in- 
trigue he anticipated those who, like Greene and 
Shakespeare, adapted the Italian plot to English man- 
ners and the English taste. Nor are these the only 
claims of Gascoigne to consideration: The Supposes y as 
Professor Herford has justly remarked, is the most 
Jonsonian of English Comedies before Jonson." ^ 

As to the intrinsic merits of Gascoigne' s Supposes 
opinions may differ, and doubtless there are some who 
will hold Professor Gayley's praise exaggerated; but 
there can be no question about the influence of the play 
upon the subsequent development of the English drama. 

* Repreicntati-ve English Comedies^ pp. Ixxxiv-v. 



xxiv JiXittonnttion 

Farmer, in his Essay on the Learning of Shakespeare^ 
pointed out how largely The Taming of the Shrew 
was indebted to the Supposes,^ and more recently the 
careful • analysis of Professor Tolman has shown that 
this indebtedness extends not only to The Taming of a 
Shrew but to Shakespeare's additions to the older play.^ 
It is possible, too, that Gascoigne's translation influ- 
enced another of his greatest contemporaries — Ed- 
mund Spenser, who, we learn from Gabriel Harvey's 
letter, wrote nine comedies after Ariosto's manner. 
Two years after Harvey had acquired his copy of Gas- 
coigne's Posiesy he wrote to his friend Spenser,3 **I 
am voyde of al judgement, if your Nine Comoedies, 
where unto in imitation of Herodotus, you give the 
names of the Nine Muses , ( and in one mans fansie not 
unworthily) come not neerer Ariostoes Comoedies, 
eyther for the finenesse of plausible Elocution, or the 
rarenesse of Poetical Invention than that Elvish Queene 
doth to his Orlando Furioso." But the Nine Come- 
dies have perished, and we cannot compare the Italian 
comedy of Gascoigne with those of his more illustrious 
successor in English poetry. 

In his choice of an Italian tragedy Gascoigne was less 
happy, but it must not be forgotten that he had far less 

^ Edition of 1767, p. 31. Eighteenth Century Essays on 
Shakespeare (Ed. by D. Nichol Smith), p. 201. 

^ Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, 
Vol. V, No. 4. There is an excellent summary of Professor Tol- 
man' s conclusions in Professor Schelling's Life and Writings of 
Gascoigne, pp. 43—4. 

3 Three proper and ivittie familiar letters . . . imprinted at Lon- 
don by H. Bynneman, 1580, p. 50. 



3Introtiuction xxv 

to choose from. Italian tragedy was much slower in its 
development and never attained either the vigorous life or 
the perfection of form of Renascence comedy. Seneca's 
tragedies were, it is true, at a very early date imitated 
at Padua, lectured upon at Florence, printed at Ferrara, 
and acted at Rome: the masterpieces of Attic tragedy, 
though less familiar, were not unknown. The first 
regular Italian tragedy, Trissino's Sofonisbdy was, in- 
deed, planned upon Greek rather than Roman models; 
but though written in 15 15 and printed in 1524, it 
does not seem to have been acted till 1562. It was 
not without influence, for it imposed the unity of time 
upon Itahan tragedy, and made unrhymed verse its 
characteristic measure; but in spite of the pomp with 
which it was presented at Vicenza under the auspices 
of the Olympic Academy, Palladio designing the stage 
setting, the development of tragedy was due to other 
examples. Among these the most potent was the Or- 
becche of Giambattista Giraldi Cinthio, acted at Fer- 
rara in I 541, first in his own house before Hercules II, 
and afterwards before the Cardinals of Ravenna and 
Salviati. Giraldi, it is true, in the prologue to the Or- 
becchsy pays a tribute to the noble Trissino, who first 
of all brought tragedy to the banks of the Arno from 
the Tiber and the llissus.^ But Luigi Groto, a genera- 
tion later, in the dedication of his Dalida, speaks of the 
Orbecche as the model of all subsequent tragedies. It 
undoubtedly marks a crucial stage in the development 

^ El Trissino gentil che col suo canto 
Prima d'ognun dal Tebro e da 1 Iliso 
Gia trasse la Tragedia a 1 onde d'Arno. 



xxvi 31ntroUuction 

of Italian tragedy. Trissino and his followers had en- 
deavoured to copy Greek models ; ^ Giraldi brought the 
Italians back to the example of Seneca, which had pre- 
vailed at an earlier date in the Latin tragedies such 
as the Prog?ie of Gregorio Corrarro (modelled on the 
Thyestes') and in the loose plays on the lines of the Sacre 
Rappresentazioni, such as Cammelli's Panjila, in which 
the ghost of Seneca speaks the prologue. Not only is 
the Orbecche in the regular Senecan form of five acts, 
each terminated by a chorus, but Seneca's ghosts and 
other horrors are re-introduced to run a not inglorious 
career in Renascence tragedy. Nemesis, the Furies, and 
a ghost open the play, which is obviously planned on 
the lines of the Thyestes. It was acted with success in 
various places in Italy and abroad, and always made 
such an impression on the minds of the spectators that 
they could not refrain from sobs and lamentation. ^ The 
play was printed in 1543, two years after its first pro- 
duction, and in this way exercised a far reaching influ- 
ence; but Giraldi' s main importance is that he wrote, 
not for the study, but the stage. We have seen that 
the theatre built at Ferrara by Alfonso I was burnt 

* This point is well brought out by Dr. Ferdinando Neri in his 
recent essay La tragedia italiana del cinquecento, p. 41. 

^ Giraldi's Discorso, u. s. p. 17: quelle che ogni volta vi erano 
venute, non poteano contenere i singhiozzi e i pianti. ... I giu- 
diziosi non solo non I'hanno biasimata, ma trovata degna di tanta 
lode, che in molti luoghi dell' Italia e stata solennemente rappre- 
sentata, e gia tanto oltre fu grata che ella favella in tutte le lingue che 
hanno cognizione della nostra, e non si sdegno il re Cristianissimo 
volere che nella sua lingua ella facesse di se avanti sua maesta solenne 
mostra. 



3|ntroDuction xxvii 

down in 1532, almost as soon as it was completed; but 
the interest of the Estes in the drama continued. Cle- 
ment Marot in his nuptial song for Renee of France 
on her marriage to Hercules (afterwards Hercules II) 
mentions theatrical performances among the entertain- 
ments given in her honour. As Duke, Hercules arranged 
with Giraldi for the composition and performance of 
dramas, suggested the subject of Cleopatra^ and dis- 
cussed the conditions of representation.^ Giraldi' s son, 
in dedicating the Epitia after his father's death to the 
Duchess of Ferrara, lays stress on the fact that it was 
never acted: the presumption is that the others were, 
and as to the performance of five out of the nine we have 
positive records. Very Hkely Giraldi was the author of 
the tragedy acted at Ferrara in 1568, about which the 
Medicean ambassador, Canigiani, was so sarcastic: he 
said it fulfilled both the ends of tragedy set forth by 
Aristotle, viz., anger and compassion, for it made the 
spectators angry with the poet and sorry for themselves. 
As a rule, however, Giraldi met with a large share of 
public approval, and he was able, as we have seen, 
in replying to his critics, to refer to the applause with 
which his work was received. He made remarkable 
advances towards the romantic drama: the Altile, which 
was already written in 1543, is the first tragedy with 
a happy ending, and only two of his plots are taken from 
classical sources, the other seven coming from his own 
collection of novels, the Ecatommiti. The Arrenopia, 

' See Appendix to Dido and letters from Giraldi to the Duke 
published by Campori in Atti e memorie . . . per le pronjincie mo- 
denii eparmensi. Vol. viii, Fasc. 4 (1876). 



xxviii 3Introt)uctton 

composed about 1562, is distinctly romantic in char- 
acter, but it was not printed till 1583, and it seems 
difficult to establish any connection between Giraldi 
and the early English drama beyond the indebtedness 
o^ Measure for Measure through Whetstone's Promos 
and Cassandra.'^ 

Lodovico Dolce was a man of smaller originality 
than Giraldi, but he was a voluminous writer and ap- 
pears to have been well known in the England of 
Elizabeth. Lodge translated some of his sonnets,^ and 
the prologue of Gismond of Salem e (Inner Temple, 
1567-8) is obviously taken from that of Dolce's Dido 
(printed in 1547). He was born in Venice in 1508, 
and died there in 1568, but he wandered much, and led 
the life of the poor scholar, with Htde profit to himself. 
Much of his work was done for the Venetian publish- 
ers Gioliti, in whose printing-ofiice he seems to have 
turned his hand to whatever task was appointed him. 
Homer, Euripides, Plautus, Vergil, Cicero, Ovid, 
Horace, Seneca were among the authors he translated 
in his rather loose fashion; his version of the Odyssey 
is described as a story taken from Homer rather than 
a translation. He himself made no claim to exactitude, 
and asserted his right to deal freely with his material. 
Unfortunately he departed far enough from his text to 
forfeit all claim to accuracy as a translator, and did not 

* Even this debt was not to the playwright Giraldi, but to the 
novelist, as in the cases of Greene's James IV^ and Othello. 

^ Pointed out by Max Th. W. Forster in Modern Philology^ 
vol. II, p. 150, and Sidney Lee in Introduction to Eli-zabethan Son- 
nets (English Garner, 1904), pp. Ixv and Ixxiii. 



JIntrotJuction xxix 

add enough of his own to merit praise for originality of 
treatment. The Italian critics of his work say that he 
knew no Greek, and his mode of dealing with the 
Phoenissae of Euripides justifies this supposition. A 
Latin translation of Euripides had been published at 
Basel by R. Winter in 1541, and to this it appears 
that Dolce had recourse. Line 982 of the Aldine edi- 
tion of the Greek text (1503), upon which most sub- 
sequent editions were founded, reads ©ecrTrpcorwv ov8a?. 
So does the Basel edition of Hervagius (1537), and no 
edition I have been able to consult gives the Greek 
reading underlying Dolce' s 

N' andrai al terreno di Tesbroti. 

But the Latin translation of 1541 does give **Ad 
solum Thesbrotorum." It is curious that this ItaHan 
version of a Latin translation of the Phoenissae y when 
reduced to English, should have been passed off on the 
learned society of Grays Inn in 1566 as a translation 
from the Greek; and still more curious that it should 
have been accepted as such by three centuries of Eng- 
Hsh critics. The indebtedness of the Jocasta of Gas- 
coigne and Kinwelmersh to Dolce' s tragedy w^as first 
pointed out by Professor J. P. Mahafly in his litde book 
on Euripides (Classical Writers Series), published in 
1879; afterwards by J. A. Symonds in his Predeces- 
sors of Shakspere (1884), where it attracted more 
general attention. The closeness with which the Eng- 
lish translators stuck to their Italian text (except in the 
choruses ) is made clear for the first time in the parallel 
text and notes following. 



XXX 3Introt)uction 

The translators of Dolce, it will be seen, added 
practically nothing to their original. Gascoigne treated 
Ariosto with greater freedom, and, as Professor Gay- 
ley points out, showed considerable ingenuity in adapt- 
ing Italian names and customs to English usages. He 
added, too, a rather heavy-handed morality and an 
occasional grossness which detract in some degree from 
the effectiveness of the original play. But the substan- 
tial merits of Ariosto' s comedy, its light and easy dia- 
logue, its genuine wit and humour, are successfully con- 
veyed into a prose, which, indeed, will hardly bear 
comparison with the Italian, but is of conspicuous merit 
among our own early comedies. This is Gascoigne* s 
real contribution to the development of English drama, 
and it is one of no small moment. Renascence com- 
edy and tragedy, for causes which do not here concern 
us, were doomed in Italy to early decay: transplanted 
to England, under different conditions of national tem- 
per, intellectual outlook, and theatrical opportunity, 
they helped to produce the form of art which is the 
greatest glory of the Elizabethan age. 



^uppo^esi 



THE TEXT 

The text adopted in this edition of the Supposes and yocasta is 
that of 1575 (Q2) "corrected, perfected, and augmented by the 
Authour," the title-page of which is here reproduced in facsimile 
from the Bodleian copy, which once belonged to Gabriel Harvey. 
Q2 was practically a reprint of Qi, issued by the same publisher 
in 1573 with Gascoigne's authority, as already noted (p. v) : 
most, but not all, of the list of " faultes escaped correction " in Qi 
are amended in Q2, and the side-notes are added. Q3 (1587) is 
a reprint of Q2, repeating its errors and adding a few others. The 
original spelling of Q2 has been followed, except that abbreviated 
forms such as &, 0, n, etc., have been filled out. The capitalization 
has been modernised : changes in punctuation affecting the sense are 
duly indicated. In designating speakers and adding stage-directions, 
the practice of previous issues in the same series has been followed. 



SSI 




THE POSIES llf 



of George Gafcoigne 
SS Efquire. 

Corre£led, perfefted, and augmented 

by the Auihour. ) f 7 f. 
Trfm M<?rf j ^uam MercuriOi, 




©as 



Printed at London for Richard Smith, 

and are to be folde at the Northwcaft 

^ door| of Paulc3 Church. 

mm'mfm 



mmmmmk^m 



^Qe 



^yx\ 



Wi^ 



SUPPOSES: 

A Comedie written in 

the Italian tongue by Ario- 

sto, Englished by George Gas- 

coygne of Grayes Inne 

Esquire, 

and there presented. 

1566. 



4 Englished. Qi, and Englished. 
8 1^66. Qi omits date. 



The names of the Actors. 

Balia, the Nurse. 

PoLYNESTA, the yong woman. 

Cleander, the Doctor, suter to Polynesta. 

Pasyphilo, the Parasite. 

Carion, the Doctors man, 

Dulypo, fayned servant and lover of Polynesta. 

Erostrato, fayned master and suter to Polynesta. 

^ y servantcs to fayned Erostrato. 

Crapyno ) ■' 

ScENi5:sE, a gentleman stranger. 

Paquetto & 1 , . 

„ * > his servantes. 

Petrucio J 

Damon, father to Polinesta. 

Nevola, and two other his servants. 

Psyteria, an olde hag in his house. 

Phylogano, a Scycilian gentleman, father to Erostrato. 

Lytio, his servant. 

Ferrarese, an Inkeeper of Ferrara. 

The Comedie presented as it were 

in Ferrara, 



19 <2i it ivere. Qi omits. 



THE PROLOGUE OR ARGUMENT 

/ suppose you are assembled here^ supposing to 
reape the fruit e of my travayles : and to he playne^ 
I meane presently to presente you with a comedie 
called Supposes : the verye name wherof may per- 
adventure drive into every of your heades a sundry s 
Suppose^ to suppose the meaning of our supposes. Some 
per case will suppose we meane to occupie your eares 
with sophisticall handling of suhtill Suppositions. 
Some other wtl suppose we go about to discipher unto 
you some queint conceiptes^ which hitherto have lo 
bene onely supposed as it were in shadow es j and 
some I see smyling as though they supposed we would 
trouble you with the vaine suppose of some wanton 
Suppose. But understand^ this our Suppose is no- 
thing else but a my staking or imagination of one thing 1 5 
for an other. For you shall see the master supposed 
for the servant^ the servant for the master : the 
freeman for a slave., and the bondslave for a free- 
man : the stranger for a well knowen friend., and 
the familiar for a stranger. But what? I sup- 20 
pose that even already you suppose me very fonde., 
that have so simply disclosed unto you the subtilties 



6 ta^t J^rologur or atrgumnrt 

of these our Supposes : where otherwise in deede I 
suppose you shoulde have hearde almoste the laste of 
our Supposes^ before you coulde have supposed anye 25 
of them arighte. Let this then suffise. 



^uppoiSesJ 



Actus primus. Scena i. 

^Street in front of Damon* s House J\ 

Baliay the Nurse. Polynesia^ the yong woman, 

\Balia^ Here is no body, come foorth, Poly- 
nesia, let us looke about, to be sure least any man 
heare our talke : for I thinke within the house 
the tables, the plankes, the beds, the portals, yea 
and the cupbords them selves have eares. 5 

Polynesia. You might as well have sayde, the 
windowes and the doores : do you not see howe 
they harken ? 

Ba. Well, you jest faire, but I would advise 
you take heede ; I have bidden you a thousande 10 
times beware : you will be spied one day talk- 
ing with Dulippo. 

Street . . . Home. The whole action passes in the street before the 
house of Damon and that of hi^ neighbour, Erostrato : it occupies 
only a few hours, shortly before, and immediately after, dinner-time. 

I Balia. In the quarto the name of the first speaker in each 
scene is not given, being identical with that of the first person 
mentioned in the stage-directions. 

3 beare. Q3, do heare. 



8 g)Up}JO0C0 [Act I. 

Po, And why should I not talke with Du- 
lippo, as well as with any other, I pray you ? 

Ba. I have given you a wherfore for this why 15 
many times : but go too, followe your owne ad- 
vise till you overwhelme us all with soden mis- 
happe. 

Po. A great mishappe, I promise you : marie, 
Gods blessing on their heart that sette suche a 20 
brouche on my cappe ! 

Ba. Well, looke well about you : a man would 
thinke it were inough for you secretly to rejoyce, 
that by my helpe you have passed so many pleas- 
ant nightes togither : and yet by my trouth I do 25 
it more than halfe agaynst my will, for I would 
rather you had setled your fansie in some noble 
familie ; yea, and it is no small griefe unto me 
that (rejecting the suites of so many nobles and 
gentlemen) you have chosen for your darling a 30 
poore servaunt of your fathers, by whome shame 
and infamie is the best dower you can looke for 
to attayne. 

Po. And, I pray you, whome may I thanke 
but gentle Nourse ? that continually praysing 35 
him, what for his personage, his curtesie and, 
above all, the extreme passions of his minde — 
in fine, you would never cease till I accepted 
him, delighted in him, and at length desired him 
with no lesse affection than he earst desired me. 40 



Scene I.] ^UpjpO0f 6 9 

Ba, I can not denie but at the beginning I 
did recommende him unto you (as in deede I 
may say that for my selfe I have a pitiful heart), 
seeing the depth of his unbridled affection, and 
that continually he never ceassed to fill mine 45 
eares with lamentable complaynts. 

Po. Nay, rather that he filled your pursse 
with bribes and rewards, Nourse. 

Ba. Well, you may judge of Nourse as you 
liste. In deede I have thought it alwayes a deede 50 
of charitie to helpe the miserable yong men, 
whose tender youth consumeth with the furious 
flames of love. But, be you sure, if I had thought 
you would have passed to the termes you nowe 
stand in, pitie nor pencion, peny nor pater noster, 55 
shoulde ever have made Nurse once to open hir 
mouth in the cause. 

Po. No [?] of honestie, I pray you, who first 
brought him into my chamber ? who first taught 
him the way to my bed but you ? fie, Nourse, 60 
fie, never speake of it for shame, you will make 
me tell a wise tale anone. 

Ba. And have I these thanks for my good 
wil ? why, then, I see wel I shall be counted 
the cause of all mishappe. 65 

Po. Nay, rather, the author of my good happe 
(gentle Nourse), for I would thou knewest I love 

48 Nourse. Qi omits. t^% Nof Qq, No. Hazlitt, Now. 



10 ^UppO0eflf [Act I. 

not Dulipo, nor any of so meane estate, but 
have bestowed my love more worthily than thou 
deemest : but I will say no more at this time. 70 

Ba. Then I am glad you have changed your 
minde yet. 

Po. Nay, I neither have changed, nor will 
change it. 

Ba. Then I understande you not : how sayde 75 
you ? 

Po. Mary, I say that I love not Dulipo, nor 
any suche as he, and yet I neither have changed 
nor wil change my minde. 

Ba. I can not tell ; you love to lye with 80 
Dulipo very well. This geare is Greeke to me ; 
either it hangs not well togither, or I am very 
dull of understanding : speake plaine, I pray 
you. 

Po. I can speake no plainer, I have sworne to 85 
the contrary. 

Ba. Howe ? make you so deintie to tell it 
Nourse, least she shoulde reveale it ? you have 
trusted me as farre as may be (I may shewe to 
you) in things that touche your honor if they 90 
were knowne : and make you strange to tell me 
this ? I am sure it is but a trifle in comparison 
of those things wherof heretofore you have 
made me privie. 

Po. Well, it is of greater importance than 95 



Scene I.] ^1(^^00(0 1 1 

you thinke, Nourse ; yet would I tell it you 
under condition and promise that you shall not 
tell it agayne, nor give any signe or token to be 
suspected that you know it. 

Ba, I promise you of my honestie ; say on. loo 

Po. Well, heare you me, then : this yong 
man, whome you have alwayes taken for Du- 
lipo, is a noble borne Sicilian, his right name 
Erostrato, sonne to Philogano, one of the worth- 
iest men in that countrey. 105 

Ba. How Erostrato ? is it not our neighbour, 
whiche — ? 

Po. Holde thy talking, Nourse, and harken to 
me, that I may explane the whole case unto 
thee. The man whome to this day you 
have supposed to be Dulipo is (as I say) suposeTnd 
Erostrato, a gentleman that came from grownd of 
Sicilia to studie in this citie, and even at ^^ ^^ ^"' 

DOS£S 

his first arrivall met me in the street, fel 
enamored of me, and of suche vehement force 115 
were the passions he suffred, that immediatly he 
cast aside both long gowne and bookes, and de- 
termined on me only to apply his study. And 
to the end he might the more commodiously 
bothe see me and talke with me, he exchanged 120 

The fir zt supose . . . suposes. Qi omits this and all subsequent 
side-notes with a few exceptions pointed out where they occur. 
This one was omitted from ^3, obviously by oversight. 



12 §>UppO0eSf [Act I. 

both name, habite, clothes, and credite with his 
servant Dulipo (whom only he brought with 
him out of Sicilia), and so with the turning of 
a hand, of Erostrato a gentleman he became 
Dulipo a serving man, and soone after sought 125 
service of my father, and obteyned it. 

Ba. Are you sure of this ? 

Po. Yea, out of doubt : on the other side 
Dulippo tooke uppon him the name of Erostrato 
his maister, the habite, the credite, bookes, and 130 
all things needefull to a studente, and in shorte 
space profited very muche, and is nowe esteemed 
as you see. 

Ba. Are there no other Sicylians heere : nor 
none that passe this way which may discover 135 
them ? 

Po. Very fewe that passe this way, and fewe 
or none that tarrie heere any time. 

Ba. This hath been a straunge adventure; 
but, I pray you, howe hang these thinges to- 140 
gither — that the studente whome you say to 
be the servant, and not the maister, is become 
an earnest suter to you, and requireth you of 
your father in mariage ? 

Po. That is a pollicie devised betweene them, 145 
to put Doctor Dotipole out of conceite : the 
olde dotarde, he that so instantly dothe lye upon 
my father for me. But, looke where he comes, 



Scene II.] ^UppO^tH 1 3 

as God helpe me, it is he : out upon him, what 
a luskie yonker is this! yet I had rather be a 150 
noonne a thousande times, than be combred with 
suche a coystrell. 

Ba. Daughter, you have reason ; but let us 
go in before he come any neerer. 

Polynesta goeth in, and Balya stayeth a little 
zvhyle after, speaking a worde or two to 
the Doctor, and then departeth. 

SCENA 2. 
Oleander, doctor. Pasiphilo, parasite. Balya, nourse. 

\Cleander?^ Were these dames heere, or did 
mine eyes dazil ? 

Pasiphilo. Nay, syr, heere were Polynesta and 
hir nourse. 

Cle. Was my Polynesta heere ? alas ! I knewe 5 
hir not. 

Ba. ^jiside^. He muste have better eyesight 
that shoulde marry your Polynesta, or else he 
may chaunce to oversee the best poynt in his 
tables sometimes. 10 

Pa. Syr, it is no marvell, the ayre is very 
mistie too day : I my selfe knew hir better by 
hir apparell than by hir face. 

Cle. In good fayth, and I thanke God I have 

I thae. Qi, there. 



14 ^UppO0C0 [Act I. 

mine eye sighte good and perfit, little worse 15 
than when I was but twentie yeres olde. 

Pa. How can it be otherwise ? you are but 
yong. 

Cle. I am fiftie yeres olde. 

Pa. [asidi\ . He telles ten lesse than he is. 20 

Cle. What sayst thou of ten lesse ? 

Pa. I saye I woulde have thoughte you tenne 
lesse ; you looke like one of sixe and thirtie, or 
seven and thirtie at the moste. 

Cle. I am no lesse than I tell. 25 

Pa. You are like inough too live fiftie more : 
shewe me your hande. 

Cle. Why, is Pasiphilo a chiromancer ? 

Pa. What is not Pasiphilo ? I pray you 
shewe mee it a little. 30 

Cle. Here it is. 

Pa. O how straight and infracte is this line 
of life ! you will live to the yeeres of Melchi- 
sedech. 

Cle. Thou wouldest say, Methusalem. 35 

Pa. Why, is it not all one ? 

Cle. I perceive you are no very good Bibler, 
Pasiphilo. 

Pa. Yes, sir, an excellent good Bibbeler, 
specially in a bottle. Oh, what a mounte of 40 
Venus here is ! but this lighte serveth not very 

15 f^^fit' ^3} perfect, 40 mounte. Q3, mouth. 



Scene II.] ^UpjpO0e0 1 5 

well ; I will beholde it an other day, when the 
ayre is clearer, and tell you somewhat, perad- 
venture to your contentation. 

Cle. You shal do me great pleasure : but tell 45 
me, I pray thee, Pasiphilo, whome doste thou 
thinke Polynesta liketh better, Erostrato or 
me ? 

Pa. Why you, out of doubt : she is a gentle- 
woman of a noble minde, and maketh greater 50 
accompte of the reputation she shall have in 
marrying your worship, than that poore scholer 
whose birthe and parentage God knoweth, and 
very fewe else. 

Cle. Yet he taketh it upon him bravely in S5 
this countrey. 

Pa. Yea, where no man knoweth the con- 
trarie ; but let him brave it, host his birth, and 
do what he can : the vertue and knowledge that 
is within this body of yours is worth more than 60 
all the countrey he came from. 

Cle. It becommeth not a man to praise him 
selfe : but, in deede, I may say (and say truely) 
that my knowledge hath stoode me in better 
steade at a pinche than coulde all the goodes in 65 
the worlde. I came out of Otranto when the 
Turkes wonne it, and first I came to Padua, 
after hither, where by reading, counsailing and 

56 this. Qi, the. 



1 6 ^UppO0eSl [Act I. 

pleading, within twentie yeares I have gathered 
and gayned as good as ten thousande ducats. 7© 

Pa. Yea, mary, this is the righte knowledge : 
philosophic, poetrie, logike, and all the rest, are 
but pickling sciences in comparison to this. 

Cle. But pyckling in deede, whereof we have 

a verse : 75 

The trade oflaive doth fill the bqystrous bagges, 
They sivimme in silke^ ijuhen others royst in ragges. 

Pa. O excellent verse; who made it? Virgil? 

Cle. Virgil ? tushe, it is written in one of 
our gloses. 80 

Pa. Sure, who soever wrote it, the morall is 
excellent, and worthy to be written in letters 
of golde. But to the purpose : I thinke you 
shall never recover the wealth that you loste at 
Otranto. 85 

Cle. I thinke I have dubled it, or rather An other 
made it foure times as muche : but, in deed, supose. 
I lost mine only sonne there, a childe of five 
yeres olde. 

Pa. O, great pitie ! 90 

Cle. Yea, I had rather have lost al the goods 
in the world. 

Pa. Alas, alas ! by God, and grafts of suche 
a stocke are very gayson in these dayes. 

Cle. I know not whether he were slayne, or 95 

91 ha've. Qi omits. 94 gayson. Q3, geason. 



Scene II.] ^U|3pO0e0 1 7 

the Turks toke him and kept him as a bond 
slave. 

Pa. Alas, I could weepe for compassion, but 
there is no remedy but patience ; you shall get 
many by this yong damsell with the grace of loo 
God. 

Cle. Yea, if I get hir. 

Pa. Get hir ? why doubt you of that ? 

Cle. Why ? hir father holds me off with de- 
layes, so that I must needes doubt. 105 

Pa. Content your selfe, sir, he is a wise man, 
and desirous to place his daughter well : he will 
not be too rashe in hys determination, he will 
thinke well of the matter ; and lette him thinke, 
for the longer he thinketh, the more good of you no 
shall he thinke. Whose welth, whose vertue, 
whose skill, or whose estimation can he com- 
pare to yours in this citie ? 

Cle. And hast thou not tolde him that I would 
make his daughter a dower of two thousand du-115 
cates ? 

Pa. Why, even now; I came but from thence 
since. 

Cle. What said he ? 

Pa. Nothing, but that Erostrato had proferediao 
the like. 

Cle. Erostrato ? how can he make any dower, 
and his father yet alive ? 



1 8 ^UPpO00fif [Act I. 

Pa. Thinke you I did not tell him so? yes, 
I warrant you, I forgot nothing that may furderi25 
your cause : and doubte you not, Erostrato shal 
never have hir, unlesse it be in a dreame. 

Cle. Well, gentle Pasiphilo, go thy wayes 
and tell Damon I require nothing but his daugh- 
ter: I wil none of his goods: I shal enrich hir 130 
of mine owne : and if this dower of two thou- 
sand ducates seem not sufficient, I wil make it 
five hundreth more, yea a thousand, or what so 
ever he wil demaund rather then faile. Go to, 
Pasiphilo, shew thy selfe frendly in working thisiss 
feate for me : spare for no cost ; since I have 
gone thus farre, I wilbe loth to be out bidden. 
Go. 

Pa, Where shall I come to you againe ? 

Cle. At my house. 140 

Pa. When? 

Cle. When thou wilte. 

Pa. Shall I come at dinner time ? 

Cle. I would byd thee to dinner, but it is a 
Saincts even which I have ever fasted. 145 

Pa. [asidel^ . Faste, till thou famishe. 

Cle. Harke! 

Pa. [aside']. He speaketh of a dead mans 
faste. 

Cle. Thou hearest me not. 150 

Pa. Nor thou understandest me not. 



Scene III.] ^UppOS^Cfif 1 9 

Cle. I dare say thou art angrie I byd the not 
to dinner : but come, if thou wilte ; thou shalt 
take such as thou findest. 

Pa. What! think you I know not where to 155 
dine ? 

Cle. Yes, Pasiphilo, thou art not to seeke. 

Pa. No, be you sure, there are enowe will 
pray me. 

Cle. That I knowe well enough, Pasiphilo ; 160 
but thou canst not be better welcome in any 
place than to me ; I will tarrie for thee. 

Pa. Well, since you will needes, I will come. 

Cle. Dispatche, then, and bring no newes but 
good. 165 

Pa. Better than my rewarde, by the rood. 

Oleander exit. Pasiphilo restat. 

ScENA iii. 

Pasiphilo. \_Later~\ Dulipo. 

\_Pasiphilo., alone7\ O miserable covetous 
wretche, he findeth an excuse by S. Nicolas fast, 
bicause I should not dine with him, as though 
I should dine at his owne dishe : he maketh 
goodly feasts, I promise you ; it is no wonder 5 
though hee thinke me bounde unto him for my 
fare : for over and besides that his provision 

3 nvith. Q3 omits. 



20 ^UppOflfeflf [Act I. 

is as skant as may be, yet there is great differ- 
ence betweene his diet and mine. I never so 
much as sippe of the wine that he tasteth, I lo 
feede at the hordes ende with browne bread : 
marie, I reach always to his owne dishe, for 
there are no more but that only on the table. 
Yet he thinks that for one such dinner I am 
bound to do him al the service that I can, and 15 
thinks me sufficiently rewarded for all my travell 
with one suche festivall promotion. And yet, 
peradventure, some men thinke I have great 
gaines under him : but I may say and sweare, that 
this dosen yeere I have not gayned so muche in 20 
value as the points at my hose (whiche are but 
three with codpeece poynt and al) : he thinkes 
that I may feede upon his favour and faire 
wordes : but if I could not otherwise provide for 
one, Pasiphilo were in a wyse case. Pasiphilo 25 
hath mo pastures to passe in than one, I war- 
rant you : I am of householde with this scholer 
Erostrato (his rivale) as well as with Domine 
Cleander : nowe with the one, and then with 
the other, according as I see their caters pro- 30 
vide good cheere at the market ; and I finde 
the meanes so to handle the matter, that I am 
welcome too bothe. If the one see me talke 
with the other, I make him beleeve it is to bar- 
ken newes in the furtherance of his cause : and 35 



Scene III.] ^UppO0e0 21 

thus I become a broker on bothe sides. Well, 
lette them bothe apply the matter as well as they 
can, for, in deede, I will travell for none of them 
bothe : yet will I seeme to worke wonders on 
eche hande. ^Enter Dulipo.~\ But is not this one 40 
of Damons servants that commeth foorth ? It 
is : of him I shall understand where his master 
is. Whither goeth this joyly gallant ? 

Dul'ipo, I come to seeke some body that may 
accompany my master at dinner; he is alone, 45 
and would fayne have good company. 

Pa, Seeke no further, you coulde never have 
found one better than me. 

Du, I have no commission to bring so many. 

Pa, How many ? I will come alone. 50 

Du. How canst thou come alone, that hast 
continually a legion of ravening wolves within 
thee ? 

Pa. Thou doest (as servants commonly doe) 
hate al that love to visite their maisters. 55 

Du. And why ? 

Pa. Bicause they have too many teeth as you 
thinke. 

Du. Nay, bicause they have to many tongues. 

Pa. Tongues ? I pray you what did my tongue 60 
ever hurt you ? 

Du. I speake but merily with you, Pasiphilo ; 
goe in, my maister is ready to dine. 
43 pyb- Q3, jolly- 



22 g)UppO0eS; [Act I. 

Pa. What ! dineth he so earely ? 

Du. He that riseth early, dineth early. 65 

Pa. I would I were his man. Maister Doc- 
tor never dineth till noone, and how dilicately 
then, God knoweth. I wil be bolde to goe in, 
for I count my selfe bidden. 

Du. You were best so. 70 

Pasiphilo i?itrat. DuI\ipo] restat. 
Hard hap had I when I first began this unfortu- 
nate enterprise : for I supposed the readiest medi- 
cine to my miserable affects had bene to change 
name, clothes, and credite with my servant, and 
to place my selfe in Damons service : think- 75 
ing that as shevering colde by glowing fire, 
thurst by drinke, hunger by pleasant repasts, and 
a thousande suche like passions finde remedie 
by their contraries, so my restless desire might 
have founde quiet by continuall contemplation. 80 
But, alas, I find that only love is unsaciable : 
for, as the flie playeth with the flame till at last 
she is cause of hir owne decay, so the lover that 
thinketh with kissing and colling to content his 
unbrideled apetite, is commonly scene the only 85 
cause of his owne consumption. Two yeeres are 
nowe past since (under the colour of Damons 
service) I have bene a sworne servant to Cupid, 

Pasiphilo . . . restat. No stage-direction in Ql. 
73 afects. Qi, efFectes. 



Scene III.] g>UppO0e0 23 

of whom I have received as much favour and 
grace as ever man founde in his service. I have 90 
free libertie at al times to behold my desired, to 
talke with hir, to embrace hir, yea (be it spoken 
in secrete) to lie with hir. I reape the fruites of 
my desire : yet, as my joyes abounde, even so 
my paines encrease. I fare like the covetous 95 
man, that having all the world at will, is never 
yet content : the more I have, the more I desire. 
Alas, what wretched estate have I brought 
my selfe unto, if in the ende of all my farre 
fetches, she be given by hir father to this oldeioo 
doting doctor, this buzard, this bribing villaine, 
that by so many meanes seeketh to obtain hir 
at hir fathers hands ? I know she loveth me best 
of all others, but what may that prevaile, when 
perforce she shalbe constrained to marie another ? 105 
Alas, the pleasant tast of my sugred joyes doth 
yet remaine so perfect in my remembrance, that 
the least soppe of sorow seemeth more soure 
than gal in my mouth. If I had never knowen 
delight, with better contentation might I have no 
passed these dreadful dolours. And if this olde 
Mumpsimus (whom the pockes consume) should 
win hir, then may I say, '' Farewell the pleasant 
talke, the kind embracings, yea, farewel the ^ 

sight of my Polynesta": for he, like a jelouseii5 ( 

103 lo'veth. Q3, loves. 



24 ^ttJPPO0e0 [Act I. 

wretch, will pen hir up, that I thinke the birdes 
of the aire shall not winne the sighte of hir. I 
hoped to have caste a blocke in his waie by 
the meanes that my servaunt (who is supposed to 
be Erostrato, and with my habite and credite is 120 
wel esteemed) should proffer himself a suter, at 
the least to countervail the Doctors proffers. 
But, my maister knowing the wealth of the one, 
and doubting the state of the other, is determined 
to be fed no longer with faire wordes, but to 125 
accept the Doctor (whom he right well knoweth) 
for his Sonne in law. Wel, my servant promised 
me yesterday to devise yet againe some newe 
conspiracie to drive Maister Doctor out of con- 
ceite, and to laye a snare that the foxe himselfeiso 
might be caughte in : what it is, I knowe not, 
nor I saw him not since he went about it : I 
will goe see if he be within, that at least if he 
helpe me not, he maye yet prolong my life for 
this once. But here commeth his lackie : ho! 135 
Jack pack, where is Erostrato ? 

Here must Crapine be camming in with a 
basket and a sticke in his hand. 

136 Jack pack. J^i, Jack heark. 



scwE iiiL] &uppofife0 25 

ScENA iiii. 

CrapinOy the lackie. Dulipo. 

\_Crapino.'^ Erostrato ? mary he is in his 
skinne. 

Dulipo. Ah, hooreson boy, I say, how shall I 
finde Erostrato ? 

Cra. Finde him ? howe meane you ? by the 
weeke or by the yeere ? 

Du. You cracke-halter, if I catche you by 
the eares, I shall make you answere me di- 
rectly. 

Cra. \_going]^ . In deede ? 

Du. Tarry me a little. 

Cra, In faith, sir, I have no leisure. 

Du. Shall we trie who can runne fastest ? 

[They run, and Dulipo catches Crapino.'\ 

Cra. Your legges be longer than mine, you 
should have given me the advauntage. 

Du. Go to, tell me where is Erostrato ? 

Cra. I left him in the streete, where he gave 
me this casket (this basket I would have sayde) 
and bad me beare it to Dalio, and returne to 
him at the Dukes palace. 

Du. If thou see him, tell him I must needes 
speake with him immediatly: or abide awhyle. 



26 ^ttppC0rfil [Act I. 

I will go seeke him my selfe, rather than be sus- 
pected by going to his house. 

Crapino departeth, and Dulipo also : after 
Dulipo commeth in agayne, seeking Eros- 
tratQ. 

Finis Actus i. 



Actus ii. Scena i. 
DuHpo. \_Later'\ Erostrato. 

\_Dulipo.~\ I thinke if I had as many eyes as 
Argus, I coulde not have sought a man more 
narrowly in every streete and every by lane ; 
there are not many gentlemen, scholers, nor 
marchauntes in the citie of Ferara, but I have 5 
mette vi^ith them, excepte him : peradventure hee 
is come home an other way; but looke where 
he commeth at the last. \_Enter Erostrato.'] 

Erostrato. In good time have I spied my good 
maister. 10 

Du. For the love of God call me Dulipo 
(not master,) maintayne the credite that thou 
haste hitherto kepte, and let me alone. 

Ero. Yet, sir, let me sometimes do my duetie 
unto you, especially where no body heareth. 15 

Du. Yea, but so long the parat useth to crie 
knappe in sporte that at the last she calleth hir 
maister knave in earnest : so long you will use 
to call me master that at the last we shall be 
heard. What newes ? 20 

Ero. Good. 

Du. In deede ? 



28 §)UppOSfefli [Act II. 

Ero. Yea, excellent ! we have as good as won 
the wager. 

Du, Oh, how happie were I if this were 25 
true ! 

Ero. Heare you me ; yesternight, in the 
evening, I walked out, and founde Pasiphilo, and 
with small entreating I had him home to supper, 
where, by suche meanes as I used, he became 30 
my great friend, and tolde me the whole order 
of our adversaries determination : yea, and what 
Damon doth intende to do also; and hath pro- 
mised me that from time to time, what he can 
espie he will bring me word of it. 35 

Du. I can not tel whether you know him or 
no ; he is not to trust unto, a very flattering and 
a lying knave. 

Ero. I know him very well, he can not de- 
ceive me : and this that he hath told me I know 40 
must needes be true. 

Du. And what was it in effect ? 

Ero. That Damon had purposed to give Another 
his daughter in mariage to this doctor, upon supose. 
the dower that he hath profered. 45 

Du. Are these your good newes ? your excel- 
lent newes ? 

Ero. Stay a whyle ; you will understande me 
before you heare me. 

Du. Well, say on. 50 



Scene I.] g>UJPPO0e0 29 

Ero. I answered to that, I was ready to make 
hir the lyke dower. 

Du. Well sayde. 

Ero. Abide, you heare not the worst yet. 

Du. O God, is there any worsse behinde ? 55 

Ero. Worsse ? why, what assurance coulde 
you suppose that I might make without some 
speciall consent from Philogano my father ? 

Du. Nay, you can tell, you are better scholer 
than I. 60 

Ero. In deede you have lost your time : for 
the books that you tosse now a dayes treate of 
smal science. 

Du, Leave thy jesting, and proceede. 

Ero. I sayd further, that I receyved letters 65 
lately from my father, whereby I understoode 
that he woulde be heere very shortly to performe 
all that I had profered ; therefore I required him 
to request Damon on my behalf, that he would 
stay his promise to the doctor for a fourtnight 70 
or more. 

Du. This is somewhat yet, for by this meanes 
I shal be sure to linger and live in hope one 
fourtnight longer ; but at the fourthnights ende, 
when Philogano commeth not, how shall I then 75 
do ? yea, and though he came, howe may I any 
way hope of his consent when he shall see that 
to follow this amorous enterprise I have set 



30 ^nppO&t^ [Act II. 

aside all studie, all remembraunce of my duetie, 
and all dread of shame. Alas, alas, I may go So 
hang my selfe ! 

Ero, Comforte your selfe, man, and trust in 
me : there is a salve for every sore ; and doubt 
you not, to this mischeefe vi^e shall finde a 
remedie. 85 

Du. O friend, revive me, that hitherto, since 
I first attempted this matter, have bene contin- 
ually dying. 

Ero. Well, harken a while then : this morn- 
ing I tooke my horse, and rode into the fieldes 90 
to solace my self, and as I passed the foorde 
beyonde S. Anthonies gate, I met, at the foote 
of the hill, a gentleman riding with two or three 
men : and as me thought by his habite and his 
lookes, he should be none of the wisest. He 95 
saluted me, and I him : I asked him from 
whence he came, and whither he would ? he 
answered that he had come from Venice, then 
from Padua, nowe was going to Ferrara, and so 
to his countrey, whiche is Scienna. As soone as 100 
I knewe him to be a Scenese, sodenly lifting up 
mine eyes (as it were with an admiration), I 
sayd unto him, " Are you a Scenese, and come 
to Ferrara ? " " Why not ? " sayde he : quoth I 
(halfe and more with a trembling voyce), " Know 105 
you the daunger that should ensue if you be 



Scene I] g)UppOS?eS? 3 1 

knowne in Ferrara to be a Scenese ? " He, more 
than halfe amased, desired me earnestly to tell 
him what I ment. 

Du. I understande not wherto this tendeth. no 

Ero. I beleeve you : but harken to me. 

Du. Go too, then. 

Ero. I answered him in this sorte : " Gentle- 
man, bycause I have heretofore founde very 
curteous entertaynement in your countrey (bee- 115 
ing a student there), I accompt my self as it 
were bounde to a Scenese : and therefore if I 
knewe of any mishappe towards any of that 
countrey, God forbid but I should disclose it : 
and I marvell that you knewe not of the injurieiao 
that your countreymen offered this other day to 
the Embassadours of Counte Hercules." 

Du. What tales he telleth me! what apper- 
tayne these to me ? 

Ero. If you will harken a whyle, you shall 125 
finde them no tales, but that they appertayne to 
you more than you thinke for. 

Du. Foorth. 

Ero. I tolde him further, these Ambassadoures 
of Counte Hercules had dyvers mules, waggons, 130 
and charettes, laden with divers costly jewels, 
gorgeous furniture, and other things which 

122 Counte Hercules, (^i, Countie Hercule, ^3, County Her- 
cules. 



32 g>UppO0e0 [Act II. 

they caried as presents (passing that way) to the 
King of Naples : the which were not only stayd 
in Sciene by the officers whom you cal cus-iss 
tomers, but serched, ransacked, tossed and 
turned, and in the end exacted for tribute, as 
if they had bene the goods of a meane mar- 
chaunt. 

Du. Whither the divell wil he ? is it possible 140 
that this geare appertaine any thing to my cause ? 
I finde neither head nor foote in it. 

Ero. O how impacient you are : I pray you 
stay a while. 

Du, Go to yet a while then. 145 

Ero. I proceeded, that upon these causes the 
Duke sent his Chauncelor to declare the case 
unto the Senate there, of whome he had the 
moste uncurteous answere that ever was heard : 
wherupon he was so enraged with all of that 150 
countrey, that for revenge he had sworne to 
spoyle as many of them as ever should come to 
Ferara, and to sende them home in their dublet 
and their hose. 

Du. And I pray thee, how couldest thou 155 
upon the sudden devise or imagine suche a lye ? 
and to what purpose ? 

Ej'o. You shall heare by and by a thing as 
fitte for our purpose as any could have happened. 

141 appertaine. Qi, appertaineth. 



Scene I] ^XXppO&tS 33 

Du, I would fayne heare you conclude. i6o 

Ero. You would fayne leape over the stile 
before you come at the -hedge : I woulde you 
had heard me, and seene the gestures that I en- 
forced to make him beleeve this. 

Du. I beleeve you, for I knowe you can 165 
counterfet wel. 

Ero. Further I sayde, the Duke had charged, 
upon great penalties, that the inholders and 
vitlers shoulde bring worde dayly of as many 
Sceneses as came to their houses. The gentle- 170 
man beeing (as I gessed at the first) a man of 
smal sapientia^ when he heard these nev/es, 
would have turned his horse an other way. 

Du. By likelyhoode he was not very wise 
when hee would beleeve that of his countrey 175 
which, if it had bene true, every man must 
needes have knowen it. 

Ero. Why not? when he had not beene in 
his countrey for a moneth paste, and I tolde 
him this had hapned within these seven dayes. 180 

Du. Belike he was of small experience. 

Ero. I thinke, of as litle as may be : but beste 
of all for our purpose and good adventure it 
was, that I mette with such an one. Now 
harken, I pray you. 185 

Du. Make an ende, I pray thee. 

Ero. He, as I say, when he hard these words, 



34 &UppO0r0 [Act II. 

would have turned the bridle : and I, fayning a 
countenance as though I were somewhat pen- 
sive and carefull for him, paused a while, and 190 
after, with a great sighe, saide to him : " Gentle^ 
man, for the curtesie that (as I said) I have found 
in your countrey, and bicause your affaires shall 
be the better dispatched, I will iinde the meanes 
to lodge you in my house, and you shal say to 195 
every man, that you are a Sicilian of Cathanea, 
your name Philogano, father to me that am in 
deede of that countrey and citie, called here 
Erostrato. And I (to pleasure you) will (during 
your abode here) do you reverence as you were 200 
my father." 

Du, Out upon me, what a grosse hedded foole 
am I ! Now I perceive whereto this tale tendeth. 

Ero. Well, and how like you of it ? 

Du. Indifferently, but one thing I doubt. 205 

Ero. What is that ? 

Du. Marie, that when he hath bene here 
twoo or three dayes, he shal heare of every man 
that there is no such thing betwene the Duke 
and the Towne of Sciene. 210 

Ero. As for that, let me alone ! I doe enter- 
taine and will entertaine him so well, that within 
these two or three dales I will disclose unto 
him all the whole matter, and doubte not but 
to bring him in for performance of as muche as 21 5 



Scene I] ^XXppO&tS 35 

I have promised to Damon : for what hurte 
can it be to him, when he shall binde a strange 
name, and not his owne ? 

Du. What, thinke you he will be entreated 
to stande bounde for a dower of two thousand 220 
ducates by the yeere ? 

Ero. Yea, why not (if it were ten thousande), 
as long as he is not in deede the man that is bound ? 

Du. Well, if it be so, what shall we be the 
neerer to our purpose ? 225 

Ero. Why, when we have done as muche as 
we can, how can we doe any more ? 

Du. And where have you left him ? 

Ero. At the inne, bicause of his horses : he 
and his men shall lie in my house. 230 

Du. Why brought you him not with you ? 

Ero. I thought better to use your advise first. 

Du. Well, goe take him home, make him 
all the cheere you can, spare for no cost ; I will 
alowe it. 235 

Ero. Content : looke where he commeth. 

Du. Is this he ? goe, meete him. By my 
trouthe, he lookes even lyke a good foule ; he 
that fisheth for him mighte bee sure to catche a 
cods heade: I will rest here a while to discipher24o 
him. Erostrato espieth the ScenesCy and 

towards him ; Dulipo stande th aside. 

230 men. ^3, man. 



36 g>UppOS?e0 [Act II. 



SCENA ii. 

The Scenese. Paquetto and Fetrucio his servants. 
\Later\ Erostrato. 

\The Scenese. '\ He that travaileth in this 
worlde passeth by many perilles. 

Paquetto. You saye true, sir ; if the An other 
boate had bene a little more laden this supose. 
morning at the ferrie, wee had bene all drowned, 5 
for I thinke there are none of us that could 
have swomme. 

Sc, I speake not of that. 

Pa, O, you meane the foule waye that we 
had since wee came from this Padua ; I promise 10 
you, I was afraide twice or thrice that your 
mule would have lien fast in the mire. 

49^. Jesu ! what a blockehead thou art ! I 
speake of the perill we are in presently since 
jtve came into this citie. 15 

Pa. A great peril, I promise you, that we 
were no sooner arived but you founde a frende 
that brought you from the inne, and lodged you 
in his owne house. 

Sc. Yea, marie, God rewarde the gentle yong 20 

Paquetto and Petrucio his servants. Ql, Faumlus his servaunt. 
Fa. instead of Pa. throughout this scene. 
17 but. Ql, than. 



Scene II.] ^UppO0e0 37 

man that we mette, for else we had a doltish 
bene in a wise case by this time. But supose. 
have done with these tales, and take you heede, 
and you also, sirra ! take heede that none of you 
saie we be Sceneses, and remember that you call 25 
me Philogano of Cathanea. 

Pa. Sure I shal never remember these out- 
landish words ! I could well remember Hac- 
canea. 

Sc. I say Cathanea, and not Haccanea, with 30 
a vengeance ! 

Pa. Let another name it then when neede is, 
for I shall never remember it. 

Sc. Then holde thy peace, and take heede 
thou name not Scene. 35 

Pa. Howe say you if I faine my selfe dum, 
as I did once in the house of Crisobolus ? 

Sc. Doe as thou thinkest best : but looke 
where commeth the gentleman whom we are so 
muche bounde unto. [Enter Erostrato.'] 40 

Ero. Welcome, my deare father Philogano. 

Sc. Gramercie, my good sonne Erostrato. 

Ero. That is well saide ; be mindefull of ♦. 
your toung, for these Ferareses be as craftie as 
the devill of hell. 45 

Sc. No, no, be you sure we will doe as you 
have bidden us. 

Ero. For if you should name Scene, they 



38 ^UppO^eSf [Act II. 

would spoile you immediatly, and turne you 
out of the towne, with more shame than I 
woulde shoulde befall you for a thousande 
crownes. 

Sc. I warant you, I was giving them warn- 
ing as I came to you, and I doubt not but they 
will take good heede. 

Ero. Yea, and trust not the servauntes of my 
housholde to far, for they are Ferareses all, and 
never knew my father, nor came never in Sici- 
lia : this is my house ; will it please you to goe 
in ? I will follow. 

Tbey goe in. Dulipo tarieth and espieth the 
Doctor comming in with his man. 

ScENA iii. 

Dulipo alone. 

^Dulipo.~\ This geare hath had no evill begin- 
ning, if it continue so, and fall to happie ende. 
But is not this the silly Doctor with the side 
bonet, the doting foole that dare presume to be- 
come a suter to such a peerlesse paragone ? O 
how covetousnesse doth blind the common sort 
of men ! Damon, more desirous of the dower 
than mindfuU of his gentle and gallant daughter, 
hath determined to make him his sonne in law, 

4 dare. Q3, dares. 



Scene IIII.] ^UppOSf0Si 39 

who for his age may be his father in law : and lo 
hath greater respect to the abundance of goods 
than to his owne naturall childe. He beareth 
well in minde to fill his owne purse, but he litle 
remembreth that his daughters purse shalbe con- 
tinually emptie, unlesse Maister Doctour fill it 15 
with double ducke egges. Alas ! I jest and have 
no joy. I will stand here aside and laugh a litle 
at this lobcocke. 

Dulippo espieth the Doctor and his man com- 
ming, 

ScENA iiii. 

Carion, the Doctors man. Oleander . Dulipo. 

\_Carion.'] Maister, what the divel meane you 
to goe seeke guestes at this time of the day ? 
the Maiors officers have dined ere this time, 
which are alway the last in the market. 

Oleander. I come to seeke Pasiphilo, to the 5 
ende he may dine with mee. 

Oa. As though sixe mouthes and the cat for 
the seventh bee not sufficient to eate an harlotrie 
shotterell, a pennieworth of cheese, and halfe a 
score spurlings : this is all the dainties you have 10 
dressed for you and your familie. 

Ole. Ah, greedie gut, art thou afearde thou 
shalt want ? 



40 g)UPPO0e0 [Act II. 

Ca. I am afearde in deede ; it is not the first 
time I have founde it so. 15 

DuUpo [aside^ . Shall I make some sporte with 
this gallant ? what shall I say to him ? 

Cle. Thou arte afearde belike that he will 
eate thee and the rest. 

Ca. Nay, rather that he will eate your mule, 20 
both heare and hyde. 

Cle. Heare and hyde ? and why not flesh and 
all? 

Ca. Bicause she hath none. If she had any 
flesh, I thinke you had eaten hir your selfe by 25 
this time. 

Cle. She may thanke you then for your good 
attendance. 

Ca. Nay, she may thanke you for your small 
allowance. 30 

Du. [aside']^. In faith now let me alone. 

Cle. Holde thy peace, drunken knave, and 
espie me Pasiphilo. 

Du. ^aside'j. Since lean doe no better, I will 
set such a staunce betweene him and Pasiphilo, 35 
that all this towne shall not make them friendes. 

Ca. Could you not have sent to seeke him, 
but you must come your selfe ? Surely you come 
for some other purpose, for if you would have 
had Pasiphilo to dinner, I warant you he would 40 
have taried here an houre since. 



Scene mil ^UppOfifffif 4 1 

Cle. Holde thy peace ; here is one of Damons 
servaunts; of him I shall understand where An other 
he is. Good fellow, art not thou one of supose. 
Damons servaunts ? 45 

Du. Yes, sir, at your knamandement. 

Cle. Gramercie, tell me then, — hath Pasiphilo 
bene there this day or no ? 

Du. Yes, sir, and I thinke he be there still, 
ah, ah, ah. 5© 

Cle. What laughest thou ? 

Du. At a thing that every man may not 
laugh at. 

Cle. What? 

Du. Talke that Pasiphilo had with my mas- 55 
ter this day. 

Cle. What talke, I pray thee? 

Du. I may not tell it. 

Cle. Doth it concerne me? 

Du. Nay, I will say nothing. 6o 

Cle. Tell me. 

Du. I can say no more. 

Cle. I woulde but knowe if it concerne mee. 
I pray thee tell me. 

Du. I would tell you, if I were sure you 65 
would not tell it againe. 

Cle. Beleve me, I will kepe it close. Carion, 
give us leave a litle, goe aside. 

Du. If my maister shouldc know that it 



42 ^UppOS^eSf [Act II. 

came by me, I were better die a thousand 7° 
deaths. 

Cle. He shall never know it : say on. 

Du, Yea, but what assurance shall I have ? 

Cle. I lay thee my faith and honestie in 
paune. 75 

Du. A pretie paune, the fulkers will not lend 
you a farthing on it. 

Cle. Yea, but amongst honest men it is more 
worth than golde. 

Du. Yea, marie, sir, but where be they ? but 80 
will you needes have me tell it unto you ? 

Cle. Yea, I pray thee, if it any thing apper- 
taine to me. 

Du. Yes, it is of you, and I would gladly tell 
it you, bicause I would not have suche a man of 85 
worship so scorned by a villaine ribaulde. 

Cle. I pray thee tell me then. 

Du. I will tell you so that you will sweare 
never to tell it to Pasiphilo, to my maister, nor 
to any other bodie. 90 

Ca. [aside^ . Surely it is some toye devised to 
get some money of him. 

Cle. I thinke I have a booke here. 

Ca. [aside'^. If he knew him as well as I, he 
woulde never goe aboute it, for he may as soone 95 
get one of his teeth from his jawes with a paire 

77 o"- Q3> up^n- 



Scene IHI.] ^U}3pO0e0 43 

of pinchers, as a pennie out of his purse with such 
a conceite. 

Cle. Here is a letter wil serve the turne : I 
sweare to thee by the contents hereof never to loo 
disclose it to any man. 

Du. I will tell you ; I am sorie to see how 
Pasiphilo doth abuse you, perswading you that 
alwayes he laboureth for you, where in deede 
he lieth on my maister continually, as it were 105 
with tooth and naile, for a straunger, a scholer, 
borne in Sicilia : they call him Roscus or ars- 
kisse, he hathe a madde name, I can never hit 
upon it. 

Cle. And thou recknest it as madly : is it not no 
Erostrato ? 

Du. That same ; I should never have remem- 
bred it. And the villany speaketh al the evill 
of you that can be devised. 

Cle. To whom ? 115 

Du. To my maister; yea, and to Polynesta 
hirselfe sometimes. 

Cle. Is it possible ? Ah slave, and what saith 
he? 

Du. More evill than I can imagine: that 120 
you are the miserablest and most nigardly man 
that ever was. 

Cle. Sayeth Pasiphilo so by me ? 

113 villany. Q^i, Q3, villaine. 



44 ^ttppO0e0 [Act II. 

Du. And that as often as he commeth to 
your house, he is like to die for hunger, you 125 
fare so well. 

Cle. That the devill take him else. 

Du. And that you are the testiest man, and 
moste divers to please in the whole worlde, so 
that he cannot please you, unlesse he should 130 
even kill himselfe with continuall paine. 

Cle, O devilish tong ! 

Du. Furthermore, that you cough continually 
and spit, so that a dogge cannot abide it. 

Cle. I never spitte nor coughe more than 135 
thus, vho ! vho ! and that but since I caughte 
this murre ; but who is free from it ? 

Du. You say true, sir ; yet further he sayth, 
your arme holes stincke, your feete worse than 
they, and your breathe worst of all. 140 

Cle, If I quite him not for this geare ! 

Du, And that you are bursten in the cods. 

Cle. O villaine ! he lieth, and if I were not 
in the streete, thou shouldest see them. 

Du. And he saith, that you desire this yongHS 
gentlewoman as much for other mens pleasure as 
for your owne. 

Cle. What meaneth he by that ? 

Du. Peradventure that by hir beautie you 
woulde entice many yong men to your house. 150 

142 bursten. Qi, bursen. 



Scene HH.] ^\XPP0&t& 45 

Cie. Yong men ? to what purpose ? 

Du. Nay, gesse you that. 

Cle. Is it possible that Pasiphilo speaketh thus 
of me ? 

Du. Yea, and much more. 155 

Cle. And doth Damon beleeve him ? 

Du. Yea, more than you would thinke : in 
such sort, that long ere this he woulde have 
given you a flat repulse, but Pasiphilo intreated 
him to continue you a suter for his advantage. 160 

Cie. How for his advantage ? 

Du. Marie, that during your sute he might 
still have some rewarde for his great paines. 

Cie. He shall have a rope, and yet that is 
more than he deserveth : I had thought to have 165 
given him these hose when I had worne them a 
litle nearer, but he shall have a. &c. 

Du. In good faith, sir, they were but loste 
on him. Will you any thing else with me, 

sir. lyO 

Cie. Nay, I have heard to much of thee 
already. 

Du. Then I will take my leave of you. 

Cie. Farewell, but tell me, may I not know 
thy name ? iy5 

Du. Sir, they call me Foule fall you. 

Cie. An ill favored name, by my trouthe : 
arte thou this countrey man ? 



46 ^UppOS?e0 [Act n. 

Du. No, sir, I was borne by a castle men cal 
Scabbe catch you : fare you well, sir. ig© 

\_Exit Dulipo.'\ 

Cle. Farewel. Oh God, how have I bene 
abused ! what a spokesman, what a messanger 
had I provided ! 

Car. Why, sir, will you tarie for Pasiphilo 
till we die for hunger ? 185 

Cle. Trouble me not; that the devill take 
you both ! 

Car. These newes, what so ever they be, 
like him not. 

Cle. Art thou so hungrie yet ? I pray to God 190 
thou be never satisfied. 

Car. By the masse, no more I shal, as long 
as I am your servaunt. 

Cle. Goe with mischaunce ! 

Car. Yea, and a mischiefe to you, and to al 195 
such covetous wretches. 

194 tvith. Q3, with a. 

Finis Actus 2. 



Actus iii. Scena i. 

DaliOy the cooke. Crapine, the lackie. 
\Later\ Erostrato, Dulipo. 

\_Dalio.'^ By that time we come to the house, 
I truste that of these xx egges in the basket we 
shall find but very few whole. But it is a folly to 
talke to him. What the devill, wilt thou never lay 
that sticke out of thy hande ? He fighteth with 5 
the dogges, beateth the beares, at every thing in 
the streate he findeth occasion to tarie : if he 
spie a slipstring by the waye, such another as 
himself, a page, a lackie or a dwarfe, the devill 
of hell cannot holde him in chaynes, but he will 10 
be doing with him ; I cannot goe two steppes, 
but I muste looke backe for my yonker : goe to, 
halter-sicke, if you breake one egge I may chance 
breake, &c. 

Crapino. What will you breake ? your nose in 15 
mine &c. ? 

Da. Ah beast ! 

Cra. If I be a beast, yet I am no horned beast. 

Da. Is it even so ? is the winde in that doore ? 
If I were unloden I would tel you whether I be 20 
a horned beast or no. 

16 ^c. Qi, arse. 



48 S>uppo0r0 [Act ni. 

Cra. You are alway laden either with wine 
or with ale. 

Da, Ah spitefull boy, shall I suffer him ? 

\^Beats him.'\ 

Cra. Ah cowardely beast, darest thou strike 25 
and say never a woorde ? 

Da. Well, my maister shall know of this 
geere ; either he shall redresse it, or he shall lose 
one of us. 

Cra. Tel him the worst thou canst Erostra\to'\ 

by me. and Dul/ipo] 

Ero. What noise, what a rule is '^ ^'^P'-o'viso. 
this ? 

Cra. Marie, sir, he striketh mee, bicause I 
tell him of his swearing. 35 

Da. The villaine lieth deadly ; he reviles me, 
bicause I bid him make hast. 

Ero. Holla ! no more of this. Dalio, doe you 
make in a readinesse those pigeons, stock doves, 
and also the breast of veale : and let your vessell 40 . 
be as cleare as glasse against I returne, that I 
may tell you which I will have roasted, and 
which boyled. Crapine, lay downe that basket 
and followe me. Oh, that I coulde tell where 
to finde Pasiphilo ! but looke where he commeth 45 
that can tell me of him. 

Erostrato . . . impro'viso. Qi has this side-nQte. 



Scene I.] ^UppOtStSi 49 

Du. What have you done with Philo- £)„/,v,^ ,-, 
gano your father ? espied by 

Ero. I have left him vv^ithin. I would ^""^^trato. 
faine speake with Pasiphilo ; can you tell me 50 
where he is ? 

Du, He dined this day with my maister, but 
whether he went from thence I know not : what 
would you with him ? 

Ero. I woulde have him goe tell Damon that 55 
Philogano my father is come and ready to make 
assurance of as much as he wil require. Now 
shall I teach Maister Doctor a schole point; 
he travaileth to none other end but to catche 
Cornua, and he shall have them, for as old as 60 
he is, and as many subtilties as he hath learned 
in the law, he can not goe beyond me one ace. 

Du. O deere friend, goe thy wayes, seeke 
Pasiphilo, finde him out and conclude somewhat 
to our contentation. 65 

Ero. But where shall I find him ? 

Du. At the feasts, if there be any, or else in 
the market with the poulters or the fishmongers. 

Ero. What should he doe with them ? 

Du. Mary, he watcheth whose caters bie the 70 
best meat. If any bie a fat capon, a good breast 
of veale, fresh samon, or any suche good dishe, 
he followeth to the house, and either with some 

Dulipo . . . Erostrato. Qi has this side-note. 



50 ^UPPOSfeSf [Act m. 

newes or some stale jest he will be sure to make 
himselfe a geast. 75 

Ero. In faith, and I will seeke there for him. 

Du. Then muste you needes finde him, and 
when you have done, I will make you laughe. 

Ero. Whereat ? 

Du, At certaine sport I made to day with go 
Master Doctor. 

Ero. And why not now ? 

Du. No, it asketh further leysure ; I pray thee 
dispatche, and finde out Pasiphilo that honest 
man. Dulipo tarieth. Erostrato goeth out. 85 

SCENA ii. 

Dulipo alone, 

^Dulipo.~\ This amorous cause that hangeth 
in controversie betwene Domine Doctor and me, 
may be compared to them that play at primero : 
of whom some one peradventure shal leese a 
great sum of money before he win one stake, 5 
and at last halfe in anger shal set up his rest : 
win it : and after that another, another, and 
another, till at last he draw the most part of the 
money to his heape, the other by litle and litle 
stil diminishing his rest, til at last he be come as 10 
neere the brinke, as earst the other was : yet 

y^ geast. Q3, guest. 4 some. Q3 omits. 



Scene III] ^UppO0e0 5 1 

again peradventure fortune smiling on him, he 
shal, as it were by peece meale, pull out the guts 
of his fellows bags, and bring him barer than he 
himselfe was tofore, and so in play continue stil, 15 
(fortune favoring now this way, now that way) 
til at last the one of them is left with as many 
crosses as God hath brethren. O howe often 
have I thoughte my selfe sure of the upper hande 
herein ! but I triumphed before the victorie. 20 
And then how ofte againe have I thoughte the 
fielde loste ! Thus have I beene tossed nowe 
over, nowe under, even as fortune list to whirle 
the wheele, neither sure to winne nor certayne 
to loose the wager. And this practise that nowe 25 
my servaunte hath devised, although hitherto it 
hath not succeeded amisse, yet can I not count 
my selfe assured of it : for I feare still that one 
mischance or other wyll come and turne it topsie 
turvie. But looke where my master commeth. 3° 
Damon comming in espieth Dulipo, and call- 
eth him. 

ScENA iii. 

Damon i Dulipo. \Latef\ Nevola, and two mo servants. 

\Damon^ Dulipo ! 

Dulipo. Here, sir. 

Da. Go in and bid Nevola and his fellowes 



52 §)uppos;e0 [AcTin. 

come hither that I may tell them what they shall 
goe about, and go you into my studie : there 5 
upon the shelfe you shall find a roule of writings 
which John of the Deane made to my father 
when he solue him the Grange ferme, endorced 
with bothe their names : bring it hither to me. 
Du. ^jt' shall be done, sir. \_Dulipo exit.'] 10 

Da. Go, I wil prepare other maner of writ- 
ings for you than you are aware of. O fooles, 
that trust any man but themselves now adaies : 
oh spiteful fortune, thou doest me wrong, I 
thinke, that from the depth of hell pitte thou 15 
haste sente mee this servaunt to be the subver- 
sion of me and all mine. Come hither, r^^^ ^^^_ 
sirs, and heare what I shal say unto you : vants 
go into my studie, where you shall finde *^^"^^ ^"* 
Dulipo, step to him all at once, take him and 20 
(with a corde that I have laide on the table for 
the nonce) bind him hande and foote, carie him 
into the dungeon under the stayres, make faste 
the dore and bring me the key ; it hangeth by 
upon a pin on the wall. Dispatche, and doe this 25 
geare as privily as you can : and thou, Nevola, 
come hither to me againe with speede. 

Nevola. Well, I shall. \_The servants go out.'] 
Da. Alas, how shall I be revenged of this 
extreme despite ? If I punishe my servant ac- 30 
cording to his divelishe deserts, I shall heape 

28 JVell. Qi , Well, sir. 



Scene III.] ^UppO0e0 53 

further cares upon mine owne head : for to 
suche detestable offences no punishment can 
seeme sufficient, but onely death, and in such 
cases it is not lawful for a man to be his owne 35 
carver. The lawes are ordeyned, and officers 
appoynted to minister justice for the redresse of 
wrongs : and if to the potestates I >complayne 
me, I shall publishe mine owne reproche to the 
worlde. Yea, what should it prevayle me to use 40 
all the punishments that can be devised ? the 
thing once done can not be undone. My daugh- 
ter is defloured, and I utterly dishonested : how 
can I then wype that blot off my browe ? and on 
whome shall I seeke revenge ? Alas, alas, I my 45 
selfe have bene the cause of all these cares, and 
have deserved to beare the punishment of all 
these mishappes. Alas, I should not have com- 
mitted my dearest darling in custodie to so care- 
lesse a creature as this olde Nurse : for we see 50 
by common proofe that these olde women be 
either peevishe or pitifull : either easily enclined 
to evill, or quickly corrupted with bribes and 
rewards. O wife, my good wife (that nowe lyest 
colde in the grave), now may I well bewayle the 55 
wante of thee, and mourning nowe may I bemone 
that I misse thee ! if thou hadst liven (suche 

43 I utterly. Qi omits I. 
^2 pitifulL Qi, to pitifull. 



54 ^UPPO0e0 [Act III. 

was thy governement of the least things) that 
thou wouldest prudently have provided for the 
preservation of this pearle. A costly jewell may 60 
I well accompte hir, that hath been my cheefe 
comforte in youth, and is nowe become the coro- 
sive of mine age. O Polynesta, full evill hast 
thou requited the clemencie of thy carefull fa- 
ther : and yet to excuse thee giltlesse before 65 
God, and to condemne thee giltie before the 
worlde, I can count none other but my wretched 
selfe the caytife and causer of all my cares. For 
of al the dueties that are requisite in humane 
lyfe, onely obedience is by the parents to be re- 70 
quired of the childe : where on the other side 
the parents are bound first to beget them, then 
to bring them foorth, after to nourish them, to 
preserve them from bodily perils in the cradle, 
from daunger of soule by godly education, to 75 
matche them in consorte enclined to vertue, too 
banish them all ydle and wanton companie, to 
allow them sufficiente for their sustentation, to 
cut off excesse the open gate of sinne, seldome 
or never to smile on them unlesse it be to their 80 
encouragement in vertue, and finally, to provide 
them mariages in time convenient, lest (neg- 
lected of us) they learne to sette either to much 
or to litle by themselves. Five yeares are past 

79 f«^- S3' «^""- 



Scene IIIL] ^XippOfStSi 55 

since I might have maried hir, when by con- 85 
tinuall excuses I have prolonged it to my owne 
perdition. Alas, I shoulde have considered she is 
a collop of my owne flesh : what shold I think 
to make hir a princesse ? Alas, alas, a poore 
kingdome have I now caught to endowe hir 90 
with. It is too true that of all sorowes this is 
the head source and chiefe fountaine of all furies. 
The goods of the world are incertain, the gaines 
to be rejoyced at, and the losse not greatly to be 
lamented : only the children cast away, cutteth 95 
the parents throate with the knife of inward 
care, which knife will kill me surely, I make 
none other accompte. 

Damons servants come to him againe. 

ScENA iiii. 
NevoUy Damon. \Latef\ Pasiphilo. 

\_Nevola.~\ Sir, we have done as you badde 
us, and here is the key. 

Damon. Well, go then, Nevola, and seeke 
master Casteling the jayler ; he dwelleth by S. 
Antonies gate ; desire him too lend me a paire 5 
of the fetters he useth for his prisoners, and 
come againe quickly. 

Ne. Well, sir. 

Da. Heare you, if he aske what I would do 



56 g>uppO0e0 [Act m. 

with them, say you can not tell, and tell neither lo 
him nor any other what is become of Dulipo. 

Damon goeth out. 

\Ne.'\ I warant you, sir. Fye upon the devill, 
it is a thing almost unpossible for a man An other 
nowe a dayes to handle money, but the suppose. 
mettal will sticke on his fingers : I marvelled 15 
alway at this fellowe of mine, Dulipo, that of 
the wages he received he could maintaine him- 
selfe so bravely apparelled, but nowe I perceive 
the cause ; he had the disbursing and receit of 
all my masters affaires, the keys of the granair : 20 
Dulippo here, Dulippo there, [in] favoure with 
my maister, in favoure with his daughter j what 
woulde you more ? he was magister factotum : 
he was as fine as the crusadoe, and wee silly 
wretches as course as canvas ; wel, behold what 25 
it is come to in the ende ; he had bin p^^- ^^^-^v 
better to have done lesse. ^ improvho 

Pasiphilo. Thou saist true, Nevola, '^^'"'• 
he hath done to much in deed. 

Ne. From whence commest thou, in the devils 30 
name ? 

Pa. Out of the same house thou camest 
from, but not out of the same dore ? 

Ne. We had thought thou hadst bene gone 
long since. 35 

Damon goetb out. Omitted in Qi, 21 /«, Qi, Q3. Q2 omits. 
Post. . . . •venit. Qi has this side-note. 



Scene HH.] ^UP))O000 5 7 

Pa. When I arose from the table, I felte a 
rumbling in my belly, whiche made me runne to 
the stable, and there I fell on sleepe uppon the 
strawe, and have line there ever since. And 
thou, whether goest thou ? 40 

Ne. My master hath sent me on an errand in 
great hast. 

Pa. Whether, I pray thee ? 

Ne. Nay, I may not tell. Farewell. 

[Nevola exit."] 

Pa. As though I neede any further instruc- 45 
tions ! O God, what newes I heard even now as 
I lay in the stable. O good Erostrato and pore 
Cleander, that have so earnestly stroven An other 
for this damsel, happie is he that can get suppose. 
hir, I promise you. He shall be sure of mo than 50 
one at a clap that catcheth hir, eyther Adam or 
Eve within hir belie. O God, how men may be 
deceived in a woman ! Who wold have beleeved 
the contrary but that she had bin a virgin ? Aske 
the neighbours, and you shall heare very good 55 
report of hir : marke hir behaviors, and you 
would have judged hir very maydenly ; seldome 
seene abroade but in place of prayer, and there 
very devout, and no gaser at outwarde sightes, 
no blaser of hir beautie above in the windowes, 60 
no stale at the doore for the bypassers : you 

61 stale. Qi, stal. 



58 g>UppO0e0 [Act III. 

would have thought hir a holy yong woman. 
But muche good doe it. Domine Doctor, hee 
shall be sure to lacke no corne in a deare yere, 
whatsoever he have with hir else : I beshrewe 65 
me if I let the manage any way. But is not this 
the old scabbed queane that I heard disclosing 
all this geere to hir master as I stoode in the 
stable ere nowe ? it is shee. Whither goeth 
Psiteria ? Pasiphilo espieth Psiteria camming. 70 

SCENA V. 

Psiteriay Pasiphilo. 

\_Psiteria.'^ To a gossip of myne heereby. 

Pasiphilo. What ? to tattle of the goodly stirre 
that thou keptst concerning Polynesta. 

Ps. No, no : but how knew you of that geere? 

Pa. You tolde me. 5 

Ps. I ? when did I tell you ? 

Pa. Even now, when you tolde it to Damon ; 
I both sawe you and heard you, though you saw 
not me. A good parte, I promise you, to accuse 
the poore wenche, kill the olde man with care, 10 
over and besides the daunger you have brought 
Dulipo and the Nursse unto, and many moe ; 
fie, fie ! 

63 doe it. Qi adds^oK. 

64 Corne y in capitals, Q2, Q3, but not in Qi. 



Scene V.] ^UppOSit^ 59 

Ps. In deed I was to blame, but not so much 
as you think. 15 

Pa. And how not so muche ? did I not heare 
you tell ? 

Ps. Yes. But I will tell you how it came to 
passe. I have knowen for a great while that this 
Dulipo and Polynesta have lyen togither, and all 20 
by the meanes of the Nurse : yet 1 held my 
peace, and never tolde it. Now this other day 
the Nursse fell on scolding with me, and twyce 
or thryce called me drunken olde whore, and 
suche names that it was too badde : and I called 25 
hir baude, and tolde hir that I knew well enoughe 
howe often she had brought Dulipo to Polynestas 
bed : yet all this while I thought not that anye 
body had heard me, but it befell cleane con- 
trarye ; for my maister was on the other side of 30 
the wall, and heard all our talke, whereupon he 
sent for me, and forced me to confesse all that 
you heard. 

Pa. And why wouldest thou tell him ? I 
woulde not for. Sec. 35 

Ps. Well, if I had thought my maister would 
have taken it so, he should rather have killed 
me. 

Pa. Why ? how could he take it ? 

Ps. Alas, it pitieth me to see the poore yong 40 
woman how she weepes, wailes, and teares hir 



6o &UPpO0t0 [Act m, 

heare : not esteming hir owne life halfe so deare 
as she doth poore Dulipos; and hir father, he 
weepes on the other side, that it would pearce 
an hart of stone with pitie : but I must be gone. 45 

\_Psiteria exit.'^ 
Pa. Go, that the gunne pouder consume thee, 
olde trotte ! 



Finis Actus 3. 



Actus iiii. Scena i, 

Erostrato fained. 

\_Erostrato7\^ What shall I doe ? Alas, what 
remedie shall I finde for my ruefull estate ? what 
escape, or what excuse may I now devise to 
shifte over our subtile supposes ? for though to 
this day I have usurped the name of my maister, 5 
and that without checke or controll of any man, 
now shal I be openly discyphred, and that in 
the sight of every man : now shal it openly be 
knowen, whether I be Erostrato the gentleman, 
or Dulipo the servaunt. We have hitherto played 10 
our parts in abusing others : but nowe commeth 
the man that wil not be abused, the right Philo- 
gano, the right father of the right Erostrato : 
going to seke Pasiphilo, and hearing that he was 
at the water gate, beholde I espied my fellowe 15 
Litio, and by and by my olde maister Philogano 
setting forth his first step on land : I to fuge 
and away hither as fast as I could to bring word 
to the right Erostrato of his right father Philo- 
gano, that to so sodaine a mishap some subtile 20 
shift might be upon the sodaine devised. But 
what can be imagined to serve the turne, al- 

15 felloive. Qi hae servaunt in the text and felloiue in the 
" Faultes escaped correction." 



62 g>UPpO0eSf [Act IIII. 

though we had [a] monet^/es icspitc lu beatc 
oure braines about it, since we are commonly 
knowen, at the least supposed in this towne, he 25 
for Dulipo, a slave and servant to Damon, and 
I for Erostrato a gentleman an a student ? But 
beholde ! runne, Crapine, to yonder olde woman 
before she get within the doores, and desire hir to 
call out Dulipo : but, heare you? if she aske who 30 
would speake with him, saye thy selfe and none 
other. Erostrato espieth Psiteria commingy and 

sendeth his lackey to hir. 

SCENA ii. 
Crapine t Psiteria y Erostrato faified. 

l_Crapino.~\ Honest woman, you gossip, thou 
rotten whore, hearest thou not, olde witche ? 

Psiteria. A rope stretche your yong bones : 
either you muste live to be as old as I, or be 
hanged while you are yong. 5 

Cra. I pray thee, loke if Dulipo be within. 

Ps. Yes, that he is, I warrant him. 

Cra. Desire him, then, to come hither and 
speake a word with me ; he shall not tarie. 

Ps. Content your selfe, he is otherwise oc- 10 
cupied. 

Cra. Yet, tell him so, gentle girle. 
23 «, Qi- Q2, Q3 omit. 



Scene III] ^U^pO^tSi 63 

Ps. I tell you he is busie. 

Cra. Why, is it such a matter to tell him so, 
thou crooked crone? 15 

Ps. A rope stretche you, marie. 

Cra. A pockes eate you, marie. 

Ps. Thou wilt be hanged, I warant thee, if 
thou live to it. 

Cra. And thou wilt be burnt, I warant thee, 20 
if the canker consume thee not. 

Ps. If I come neere you, hempstring, I will 
teache you to sing sol fa. 

Cra. Come on ; and if I get a stone I will 
scare crowes with you. 25 

Ps. Goe with a mischiefe ; I thinke thou be 
some devill that woulde tempte me. 

Ero. Crapine : heare you ? come away, let hir 
goe with a vengeance ! why come you not ? Alas, 
loke where my maister Philogano commeth : 30 
what shall I doe ? where shall I hide me ? he 
shall not see me in these clothes, nor before I 
have spoken with the right Erostrato. 

Erostrato espyeth Phyloga?w camming, and 
runneth about to hide him. 

ScENA iii. 
Philogano. Ferrarese, the Inne keper. Litio, a servant. 

[_PhiIogano.'^ Honest man, it is even so : be 
you sure there is no love to be compared like the 



64 ^UppO0f S( [Act im. 

love of the parents towards their children. It 
is not long since I thought that a very waightie 
matter shoulde not have made me come out of 5 
Sicilia, and yet now I have taken this tedious 
toyle and travaile upon me only to see my sonne, 
and to have him home with me. 

Fer, By my faith, sir, it hath ben a great 
travaile in dede, and to much for one of your 10 
age. 

Phi. Yea, be you sure : I came in companie 
with certaine gentlemen of my countrey, who 
had affaires to dispatche as far as to Ancona, from 
thence by water too Ravenna, and from Ravenna 15 
hither, continually against the tide. 

Fer. Yea, and I think that you had but 
homly lodging by the way. 

Phi. The worst that ever man had : but that 
was nothing to the stirre that the serchers kept 20 
with me when I came aborde the ship. Jesus ! 
how often they untrussed my male, and ransaked 
a litle capcase that I had, tossed and turned al 
that was within it, serched my bosome, yea, 
my breeches, that I assure you I thought they 25 
would have flayed me, to searche betwene the 
fell and the fleshe for fardings. 

Fer. Sure I have heard no lesse, and that 
the marchants bobbe them somtimes ; but they 
play the knaves still. 30 



I 



Scene IH.] ^UppO0^0 65 

Phi. Yea, be you well assured, suche an 
office is the inheritance of a knave, and an 
honest man will not meddle with it. 

Fer. Wei, this passage shal seme pleasant 
unto you, when you shall finde your childe 35 
in health and well : but I praye you, sir, why did 
you not rather send for him into Sicilia, than 
to come your selfe, specially since you had 
none other businesse ? peradventure you had 
rather endanger your selfe by this noysome jour- 40 
ney than hazard to drawe him from his studie. 

Phi. Nay, that was not the matter, for I had 
rather have him give over his studie altogither 
and come home. 

Fer. Why ? if you minded not to make him 45 
learned, to v/hat ende did you send him hither 
at the first ? 

Phi. I will tell you : when he was at home 
he did as most yong men doe, he played many 
mad prankes and did many things that liked me 50 
not very well : and I thinking that by that 
time he had sene the worlde, he would learne 
to know himselfe better, exhorted him to studie, 
and put in his election what place he would go 
to. At the last he came hither, and I thinke he 55 
was scarce here so sone as I felt the want of 

31 iuche. Q I, for suche. 

36 in health and ivell. Q3, well and in health. 



66 ^uppo00fll [Act nn. 

him, in suche sorte as from that day to this I 
have passed fewe nightes without teares. I 
have written to him very often that he shoulde 
come home, but continually he refused stil, be- 60 
seching me to continue his studie, wherein he 
doubted not (as he said) but to profite greatly. 

Fer. In dede he is very much commended of 
al men, and specially of the best reputed stu- 
dentes. 65 

Phi. I am glad he hath not lost his time, but 
I care not greatly for so muche knowledge. I 
would not be without the sighte of hym againe 
so long for all the learning in the worlde. I am 
olde nowe, and if God shoulde call mee in his 70 
absence, I promise you I thinke it woulde drive 
me into disperation. 

Fer. It is commendable in a man to love his 
children, but to be so tender over them is more 
womanlike. 75 

Phi. Well, I confesse it is my faulte : and 
yet I will tell you another cause of my com- 
ming hither more waightie than this. Divers 
of my countrey have bene here since hee came 
hither, by whome I have sente unto him ; and 80 
some of them have bene thrice, some foure or 
five times at his house, and yet could never 
speake with him. I feare he applies his studie 

60 refuicd stil. Q3 puts the comma before stil. 



Scene IIII.] ^ttppO0^0 67 

SO that he will not leese the minute of an houre 
from his booke. What ! alas ! he might yet 85 
talke with his countrymen for a while : he is a 
yong man, tenderly brought up, and if he fare 
thus continually night and day at his booke, it 
may be enough to drive him into a frenesie. 

Fer. In dede, enough were as good as a feast. 90 
Loe you, sir, here is your sonne Erostratoes 
house. I will knocke. 

Phu Yea, I pray you knocke. \_He knocks.'] 

Fer, They heare not. 

Phi. Knocke againe. \More knocking.'] 95 

Fer. I thinke they be on slepe. 

Litlo. If this gate were your grandefathers 

soule, you coulde not knocke more softly ; let 

me come : ho ! ho ! is there any body within ? 

Dalio commeth to the wyndowe, and there 

maketh them answere. 

ScENA iiii. 

Dalioy the cooke. Ferarese, the inholder. Philogano. 
Litioy his man, 

[DaIio.~\ What devill of hell is there ? I 
thinke hee will breake the gates in peeces. 

Litio. Marie, sir, we had thoughte you had 
beene on sleepe within, and therefore we thought 
best to wake you. What doth Erostrato ? 5 



68 ^UppO0(0 [Act mi. 

Da. He is not within. 

Phtlogano, Open the dore, good fellow, I pray 
thee. 

Da, If you thinke to lodge here, you are de- 
ceived, I tell you, for here are guestes enowe lo 
already. 

Phi. A good fellow, and much for thy maister 
honesty, by our Ladie ! and what guestes, I pray 
thee ? 

Da. Here is Philogano, my maisters An other 
father, lately come out of Sicilia, suppose. 

Phi. Thou speakest truer than thou arte 
aware of; he will be, by that time thou hast 
opened the dore. Open, I pray thee hartily. 

Da. It is a small matter for me to open the 20 
dore, but here is no lodging for you ; I tell you 
plaine, the house is full. 

Phi. Of whome ? 

Da. I tolde you : here is Philogano, my mais- 
ters father, come from Cathanea. 25 

Phi. And when came he ? 

Da. He came three houres since, or more ; 
he alighted at the Aungell, and left his horses 
there : afterwarde my maister brought him hither. 

Phi. Good fellow, I thinke thou hast good 30 
sport to mocke mee. 

Da. Nay, I thinke you have good sporet to 

32 sporet. Ql, sporte. Q3, sport. 



i 



Scene IIIL] g)UppO0e0 69 

make me tary here, as though I have nothing 
else to doe : I am matched with an unrulye 
mate in the kitchin. I will goe looke to him 35 
another while. 

Phi. I thinke he be drunken. 

Ferarese. Sure he semes so : see you not how 
redde he is about the gilles ? 

Phi, Abide, fellow ! what Philogano is it 40 
whome thou talkest of? 

Da, An honest gentleman, father to Erostrato, 
my maister. 

Phi. And where is he ? 

Da. Here within. 45 

Phi. May we see him ? 

Da. I thinke you may, if you be not blind. 

Phi. Go to ! go tel him here is one wold 
speake with him. 

Da. Mary, that I will willingly doe. 50 

Phi. I can not tell what I shoulde say to this 
geere, Litio. What thinkest thou of it ? 

Li. I cannot tell you what I shoulde say, sir ; 
the worlde is large and long; there maye be An other 
moe Philoganos and moe Erostratos than suppose. 
one ; yea, and moe Ferraras, moe Sicilias, and 
moe Cathaneas : peradventure this is not that 
Ferrara whiche you sent your sonne unto. 

Phi. Peradventure thou arte a foole, and he 
was another that answered us even now. But 60 



70 ^UPJpOSfeflf [Act nil. 

be you sure, honest man, that you mistake not 
the house ? 

Fer, Nay, then, God helpe ! thinke you I 
knowe not Erostratos house ? yes, and himselfe 
also. I sawe him here no longer since than 
yesterday. But here commes one that wil tell 
us tydings of him : I like his countenaunce bet- 
ter than the [other] that answered at the win- 
dowe erewhile. 

Da Ho draweth his bed in at the window e • 
the Scenese commeth out. 



SCENA V. 

. Scenese, Philoganoy Dalio. 
\_Ferarese. Litio. ] 

[^Scenese J\ Would you speake with me sir ? 

Philogano. Yea, sir, I would faine knowe 
whence you are. 

See, Sir, I am a Sicilian, at your commaunde- 
ment. 

Phi. What part of Sicilia ? 

See. Of Cathanea. 

Phi. What shall I call your name ? 

See. My name is Philogano. 

Phi. What trade doe you occupie ? 

See, Marchandise. 

68 other. Qq, others. at. Q.3, us at. 



Scene V.] ^UppO^tii 7 1 

Phi. What marchandise brought you hither ? 

See. None, I came onely to see a sonne that 
I have here whom I sawe not these two yeares. 

Phi. What call they your sonne ? 15 

See. Erostrato. 

Phi. Is Erostrato your sonne ? 

iS"^^. Yea, verily. 

Phi. And are you Philogano? 

See. The same. 20 

Phi. And a marchant of Cathanea ? 

See. What, neede I tell you so often ? I will 
not tell you a lye. 

Phi. Yes, you have told me a false lie ; and 
thou arte a vilaine, and no better ! 25 

See. Sir, you offer me great wrong with these 
injurious wordes. 

Phi. Nay, I will doe more than I have yet 
proffered to doe, for I will prove thee a Iyer, 
and a knave to take upon thee that thou art 30 
not. 

See. Sir, I am Philogano of Cathanea, Astoute 
out of all doubte ; if I were not, I would suppose. 
be loth to tell you so. 

Phi. Oh, see the boldnesse of this brute beast ! 35 
what a brazen face he setteth on it ! 

See. Well, you may beleve me if you liste : 
what wonder you .? 

Phi. I wonder at thy impudencie ; for thou, 



72 g^UppOSfeSl [Act IIII. 

nor nature that framed thee, can ever counter- 40 
faite thee to be me, ribauld villaine and lying 
wretch that thou arte ! 

Dalio. Shall I suffer a knave to abuse a pleasant 
my maisters father thus ? hence, villaine, suppose. 
hence! or I will sheath this good fawchion in 45 
your paunch ! if my maister Erostrato find you 
prating here on this fashion to his father, I 
wold not be in your coate for mo conney skins 
than I gat these twelve monethes. Come you 
in againe, sir, and let this curre barke here till 50 
he burst. Dalio pulleth the Scenese in at the dores. 

SCENA vi. 

PhiloganOy LitiOy Ferarese. 

\Philogano^ Litio, how likest thou this geere ? 

Litio. Sir, I like it as evill as may be : but 
have you not often heard tell of the falsehood of 
Ferara ? and now may you see, it falleth out 
accordingly. 5 

Ferarese. Friend, you do not well to slaunder 
the citie ; these men are no Ferrareses : you may 
know by their tong. 

L'l. Well, there is never a barrell better her- 
ring beetwene you both : but in deed your of- 10 
ficers are most to blame that suffer such faultes 
to escape unpunished. 



Scene VI] ^XippO$t& 73 

Fer. What knowe the officers of this ? thinke 
you they know of every fault ? 

Li. Nay, I thinke they will knowe as little as 15 
may bee, specially when they have no gaines by 
it ; but they ought to have their eares as open 
to heare of such offences as the in-gates be to 
receive guests. 

Phi. Holde thy peace, foole ! 20 

Li. By the masse ! I am afearde that we shall 
be proved fooles both two. 

Phi. Well, what shall we doe ? 

Li, I would thinke best we should go seeke 
Erostrato him selfe. 25 

Fer. I will waite upon you willingly, and 
either at the schooles or at the convocations we 
shall find him. 

Phi. By our Lady ! I am wery : I will run 
no longer about to seke him ; I am sure hither 30 
he will come at the last. 

Li. Sure, my mind gives me that we a true 
shall find a new Erostrato, ere it be long, suppose. 

Fer. Looke where he is ! whether runnes he ? 
stay you awhile; I will goe tell him that you are 35 
here. Erostrato ! Erostrato ! ho, Erostrato ! I 
would speake with you. 

Erostrato is espied uppon the stage running 
about. 



74 ^UppO0r0 [Act IIII. 



ScENA vii. 

Faintd ErostratOy Ferarese^ Philogano, Litio. 
\Later\ Da Ho. 

\_Erostrato^ aside.'^ Nowe can I bide me no 
longer. Alas ! what shall I doe ? I will set a good 
face on, to beare out the matter. 

Ferarese. O Erostrato, Philogano your father 
is come out of Sicilia. 5 

Ero. Tell me that I knowe not ; I have bene 
with him and scene him alredy. 

Per. Is it possible ? and it seemeth by him 
that you know not of his comming. 

Ero. Why, have you spoken with him ? when lo 
saw you him, I pray you ? 

Per. Loke you where he standes ; why go 
you not too him ? Looke you, Philogano, be- 
holde your deare son Erostrato. 

Philogano. Erostrato ? thys is not Erostrato : 15 
thys seemeth rather to beDulipo,and it is Dul- 
ipo in deede. 

Litio. Why, doubte you of that ? 

Ero. What saith this honest man ? 

Phi. Mary, sir, in deede you are so honorably 20 
cladde, it is no marvell if you loke bigge. 

Ero. To whome speaketh he ? 



Scene VII.] g)UppO0e0 75 

Ero. As farre as I remember, sir, I never 
sawe you before. 25 

Phi. Harke, Litio, here is good geere ! this 
honest man will not know me. ^ shame- 

Ero, Gentleman, you take your markes lesse sup- 
amisse. P°^^- 

Li. Did I hot tell you of the falsehood of 30 
Ferrara, master ? Dulipo hath learned to play 
the knave indifferently well since he came 
hither. 

Phi, Peace, I say. 

Ero. Friend, my name is not Dulipo, aske 35 
you thorough out this towne of great and small, 
they know me : aske this honest man that is 
with you, if you wyll not beleeve me. 

Per. In deede, I never knewe him otherwise 
called than Erostrato ; and so they call him, as 40 
many as knowe him. 

Li. Master, nowe you may see the falsehood 
of these fellowes ; this honest man, your hoste, 
is of counsaile with him, and would face a neediesse 
us down that it is Erostrato : beware of suppose. 
these mates. 

Per. Friende, thou doest me wrong to sus- 
pect me, for sure I never hearde hym otherwise 
called than Erostrato. 

Ero. What name could you heare me called 50 
by, but by my right name .^ But I am wise 



7 6 ^nppOitH [Act nil. 

enough to stand prating here with this old man ; 
I thinke he be mad. 

Pbi. Ah, runnagate ! ah, villaine traitour ! 
doest thou use thy master thus ? what hast thou 55 
done with my son, villain ? 

[^Da/io and other servants come out of Erostrato^s 
house y threatening Philogano with stones y ^V.] 

Dalio. Doth this dogge barke here still ? and 
will you suffer him, master, thus to revile 
you ? 

Ero. Come in, come in ; what wilt thou do 60 
with this pestil ? 

Da. I will rap the olde cackabed on the 
costerd. 

Ero. Away with it ! and you, sirra, lay downe 
these stones ! come in at dore every one of you, 65 
beare with him for his age ; I passe not of his 
evill wordes. 

Erostrato taketh all his servantes in at the dores, 

ScENA viii. 

PhiloganOy FeraresCy Litio. 

\Philogano^ Alas, who shall relieve my miser- 
able estate ? to whome shall I complaine, since 
he whome I brought up of a childe, yea, and 
cherished him as if he had bene mine owne, 
doth nowe utterly denie to knowe me ? and 5 



Scene VIII.] ^UppOSff0 77 

you, whome I toke for an honest man, and he 
that should have broughte me to the sighte of 
my Sonne, are compacte with this false wretch, 
and woulde face me downe that he is An other 
Erostrato ! Alas ! you might have some suppose. 
compassion of mine age, to the miserie I am 
now in, and that I am a stranger desolate of 
all comforte in this countrey : or, at the least, 
you shoulde have feared the vengeaunce of God 
the supreme judge (whiche knoweth the secrets 15 
of all harts), in bearing this false witnesse with 
him, whome heaven and earth doe knowe to be 
Dulipo and not Erostrato. 

Litio. If there be many such witnesses in this 
countrey, men may go about to prove what they 20 
wil in controversies here. 

Ferrarese. Well, sir, you may judge of me as 
it pleaseth you : and how the matter commeth 
to passe I know not ; but truly, ever since he 
came first hither, I have knowen him by the 25 
name of Erostrato the sonne of Philogano, a 
Cathanese : nowe whether he be so in deede, or 
whether he be Dulipo (as you alledge) let that 
be proved by them that knewe him before he 
came hether. But I protest before God, that 30 
whiche I have said is neither a matter compact 
with him nor any other, but even as I have hard 
him called and reputed of al men. 



78 ^uppo0e0 [Act nn. 

Phi. Out and alas ! he whom I sent a shrewde 
hither with my son to be his servaunt, suppose. 
and to give attendance on him, hath eyther cut 
his throate, or by some evill meanes made him 
away, and hath not onely taken his garmentes, 
his bookes, his money, and that whiche he 
brought out of Sicilia with him, but usurpeth 40 
his name also, and turneth to his owne com- 
moditie the bills of exchaunge that I have al- 
wayes allowed for my sonnes expences. Oh 
miserable Philogano ! oh unhappie old man ! 
Oh eternall God ! is there no judge, no officer, 45 
no higher powers whom I may complaine unto 
for redresse of these wrongs ? 

Per. Yes, sir, we have potestates, we have 
judges, and, above al, we have a most juste 
prince : doubt you not but you shall have jus- 50 
tice, if your cause be just. 

Phi. Bring me then to the judges, to the 
potestates, or to whome you thinke best : for I 
will disclose a packe of the greatest knaverie, 
a fardell of th# fowlest falsehoode, that ever was 55 
heard of. 

Li. Sir, he that wil goe to the lawe must be 
sure of foure things : first, a right and a just 
cause ; then a righteous advocate to pleade ; 

57 laive. Ql, civill lawe. 
59 ad-vocate. Qi, doctor. 



Scene VIII.] ^ttppOfii00 79 

nexte, favour coram judice; and, above all, a 60 
good purse to procure it. 

Per, I have not heard that the law hath any 
respect to favour : what you meane by it I can- 
not tell. 

Phi. Have you no regard to his wordes : he 65 
is but a foole. 

Per, I pray you, sir, let him tell me what is 
favour. 

L't. Favour cal I, to have a friend neere about 
the judge, who may so sollicite thy cause as, if 70 
it be right, speedie sentence may ensue without 
any delayes : if it be not good, then to prolong it 
till at the last thine adversarie, being wearie, 
shal be glad to compound with thee. 

Per. Of thus much (although I never heard 75 
thus muche in this countrey before) doubt you 
not, Philogano ; I will bring you to an advocate 
that shall speede you accordingly. 

Phi. Then shall I give my selfe, as it were, 
a pray to the lawyers, whose insatiable jawes I 80 
am not able to feede, although I had here all the 
goods and landes which I possesse in mine own 
countrey, much lesse being a straunger in this 
miserie. I know their cautels of old : at the first 
time I come they wil so extoll my cause, as 85 
though it were already won ; but within a seven- 
night or ten dales, if I do not continually feede 



8o &uppO0eflf [Act nn. 

them, as the crow doth hir brattes, twentie times 
in an houre, they will begin to waxe colde, and 
to finde cavils in my cause, saying that at the 90 
firste I did not well instructe them j till at the last 
they will not onely drawe the stuffing out of my 
purse, but the marrow out of my bones. 

Fer. Yea, sir, but this man that I tell you of 
is halfe a saincte. 95 

Li. And the other halfe a devill, I hold a 
pennie. 

Phi. Well sayd, Litio ! in deede I have but 
smal confidence in their smothe lookes. 

Fer. Well, sir, I thinke this whome I meane 
is no such manner of man ; but if he were, 
there is such hatred and evil wil betweene An other 
him and this gentleman (whether he be suppose. 
Erostrato or Dulipo, what so ever he be), that 
I warrant you, he will doe whatsoever he can 105 
do for you, were it but to spite him. 

Phi. Why ? what hatred is betwixt them ? 

Fer. They are both in love and suters to one 
gentlewoman, the daughter of a welthie man in 
this citie. no 

Phi. Why, is the villeine become of such es- 
timation that he dare persume to be a suter to 
any gentlewoman of a good familie ? 

Fer. Yea, sir, out of all doubt. 

Phi. How call you his adversarie ? 115 



Scene VIII.] ^UfipO0CSi 8 1 

Fer. Cleander, one of the excellentest doctors 
in our citie. 

Ph't. For Gods love, let us goe to him. 
Fer, Goe we then. 



Finis Actus 4. 



Actus v. Scena i. 

Fanned Ero strata. 

\_Erostrato.~\ What a mishappe was this ! that 
before I could meete with Erostrato, I have 
light even ful in the lap of Philogano, where I 
was constrained to denie my name, to denie my 
master, and to faine that I knew him not, to 5 
contend with him, and to revile him in such sort 
that, hap what hap can, I can never hap well in 
favour with him againe ! Therefore, if 1 coulde 
come to speake with the right Erostrato, I will 
renounce unto him both habite and credite, and 10 
away as fast as I can trudge into some strange 
countrey, where I may never see Philogano 
againe. Alas, he that of a litle childe hath 
brought me up unto this day, and nourished me 
as if I had bene his owne : and in deede An other 
(to confesse the trouth) I have no father suppose. 
to trust unto but him. But looke where Pasi- 
philo commeth, the fittest man in the world to 
goe on my message to Erostrato. 

Erostrato espieth Pasiphilo comming towards 
him. 

Fayned Erostrato. Q3, Erostrato fained. 



Scene n.] ^UppO^eSi 83 

Scene ii. 

Pasiphiloy Erostrato, 

\_Pastphtlo.'\ Two good newes have I heard to 
day alreadie : one that Erostrato prepared a great 
feast this night ; the other, that he seeketh for 
me. And I, to ease him of his travaile, least he 
shoulde runne up and downe seeking me, and 5 
bicause no man loveth better than I to have an 
erand where good cheere is, come in post hast 
even home to his owne house : and loke where 
he is ! 

Erostrato. Pasiphilo, thou muste doe one thing 10 
for me if thou love me. 

Pa. If I love you not, who loves you ? com- 
maunde me. 

Ero. Go then a litle there to Damons house, 
aske for Dulipo, and tell him — 15 

Pa. Wot you what ? I cannot speake with 
him : he is in prison. 

Ero. In prison ? how commeth that to passe ? 
where is he in prison ? 

Pa. In a vile dungeon there within his mas- 20 
ters house. 

Ero. Canst thou tell wherefore .? 

Pa. Be you content to know he is in prison: 
I have told you to muche. 

15 — Qq, (•) 



84 ^UppOSfeSf [Act V. 

Ero. If ever you will doe any thing for me, 25 
tell me. 

Pa. I pray you, desire me not ; what were 
you the better if you knew ? 

Ero. More than thou thinkest, Pasiphilo, by 
God ! 30 

Pa. Well, and yet it standes me upon more 
than you thinke to keepe it secrete. 

Ero. Why, Pasiphilo, is this the trust I have 
had in you ? are these the faire promises you 
have alwayes made me ? 35 

Pa. By the masse, I woulde I had fasted this 
night with Maister Doctor rather than have 
come hither. 

Ero. Wei, Pasiphilo, eyther tel me, or at few 
woordes never thinke to be welcome to this house 40 
from hence forthe. 

Pa. Nay, yet I had rather leese all the gen- 
tlemen in this towne. But if I tell you any 
thing that displease you, blame no body but your 
selfe now. 45 

Ero. There is nothing can greve me more 
than Dulipoes mishappe : no, not mine owne ; 
and therfore I am sure thou canst tell me no 
worsse tidings. 

Pa. Well, since you would needes have Another 
it, I wil tel you ; he was taken abed with homely 
your beloved Polynesta. suppose. 



Scene III.] ^UppO0e0 85 

Ero. Alas ! and doth Damon knowe it ? 

Pa. An olde trotte in the house disclosed it 
to him, wherupon he tooke bothe Dulipo and 55 
the Nurse which hath bene the broker of all this 
bargayne, and clapte them bothe in a cage, 
where I thinke they shall have so [wr] e soppes 
too their sweete meates. 

Ero. Pasiphilo, go thy wayes into the kitchin, 60 
commaund the cooke to boyle and roast what 
liketh thee best : I make thee supra visour of this 
supper. 

Pa. By the masse, if you should have studied 
this sevennight, you could not have appointed 65 
me an office to please me better. You shall see 
what dishes I will devise. 

Pasiphilo goeth in, Erostrato tarieth. 

ScENA iii. 

Fayned Erostrato alone. 

\^Erostrato.'\ I was glad to rid him out of the 
way, least he shoulde see me burst out of these 
swelling teares, which hitherto with great payne 
I have prisoned in my brest, and least he shoulde 
heare the eccho of my doubled sighes, whiche 5 
bounce from the botome of my hevy heart. 
O cursed I ! O cruell fortune ! that so many 

58 soivre, Qi. Q2, sorowe. Q3, sorow. ^of- Ql omits. 



86 ^XXppOSttSf [Act V. 

dispersed griefes as were sufficient to subvert a 
legion of lovers, hast sodenly assembled within 
my carefull carkase to freat this fearfull heart in lo 
sunder with desperation ! thou that hast kepte 
my master all his youthe within the realme of 
Sicilia, reserving the wind and waves in a tem- 
perate calme (as it were at his commaunde) 
nowe to convey his aged limmes hither, neither 15 
sooner nor later, but even in the worst time 
may be — if at any time before thou haddest 
conducted him, this enterprise had bene cut off 
without care in the beginning; and if never so 
little longer thou hadst lingered his jorney, this 20 
happie day might then have fully finished our 
drifts and devises. But alas, thou hast brought 
him even in the very worst time to plunge us al 
in the pit of perdition. Neither art thou content 
to entangle me alone in thy ruinous ropes ; but 25 
thou must also catch the right Erostrato in thy 
crooked clawes, to reward us both with open 
shame and rebuke. Two yeeres hast thou kept 
secrete our subtill supposes, even this day to dis- 
cipher them with a sorowfull successe. What 30 
shall I do ? Alas, what shift shall I make ? It 
is too late now to imagine any further deceite, 
for every minute seemeth an houre, til I find 
some succour for the miserable captive Ero- 
strato. Wei, since there is no other remedie, I 35 



Scene mi.] ^XXppO&t^ Sj 

wil go to my master Philogano, and to him will 
I tell the whole truth of the matter, that at the 
least he may provide in time, before his sonne 
feele the smart of some sharpe revenge and pun- 
ishment. This is the best, and thus wil I do. 40 
Yet I know that for mine owne parte I shal do 
bitter penance for my faults forepassed ; but 
suche is the good will and duetie that I beare to 
Erostrato, as even with the losse of my life I 
must not sticke to adventure any thing which 45 
may turne to his commoditie. But what shall I 
do ? shal I go seeke my master about the towne, 
or shall I tarrie his returne hither ? If I meete 
him in the streetes he wil crie out upon me, nei- 
ther will he harken to any thing that I shall say, 50 
till he have gathered all the people wondring 
about me, as it were at an owle. Therefore I 
were better to abide here, and yet if he tarrie 
long I will goe seeke him, rather than prolong 
the time to Erostratos perill. 55 

Pasiphilo returneth to Erostrato. 

ScENA iiii. 

Pasiphilo, Fayned Erostrato. 

\_Pasiphilo^ coming out of Erostrato* s house and 
speaking to Dalio within.'^ Yea, dresse them, but 

36 master. Q3, M. 



88 g^UppOfilefif [Act V. 

lay them not to the fire, till they will be ready 
to sit downe. This geere goeth in order ; but if 
I had not gone in, there had fallen a foule 
faulte. 5 

Erostrato. And what fault, I pray thee ? 

Pa. Marie, Dalio would have layd the shoul- 
der of mutton and the capon bothe to the fire 
at once like a foole ; he did not consider that 
the one woulde have more roasting than the lo 
other. 

Ero. Alas, I would this were the greatest 
fault. 

Pa. Why ? and either the one should have 
bene burned before the other had bene roasted, 15 
or else he muste have drawne them off the 
spitte ; and they would have bene served to the 
boorde either colde or rawe. 

Ero. Thou hast reason, Pasiphilo. 

Pa. Now, sir, if it please you, I will goe into lo 
the towne and buye oranges, olives, and caphers, 
for without suche sauce the supper were more 
than halfe lost. 

Ero. There are within already, doubt Erostrato 
you not : there shal lacke nothing that exit, 
is necessarie. 

Pa. Since I told him these newes of Dulipo, 
he is cleane beside himself: he hath so many 

Erostrato exit. This side-note is in (^l. 



Scene v.] g)UppO0e0 89 

hammers in his head, that his braynes are ready 
to burst : and let them breake, so I may a knavishe 
suppe with him to night, what care I ? suppose. 
But is not this Dominus noster Cleandrus that 
commeth before ? Well sayde : by my truth we 
will teache Maister Doctor to weare a cornerd 
cappe of a new fashion. By God, Polynesta shal 35 
be his, he shall have hir out of doubt, for I have 
tolde Erostrato such newes of hir that he will 
none of hir. 

Oleander and Philogano come iny talking of 
the matter in controversie. 

SCENA V. 

Cleander, Philogano, LitiOy Pasiphilo, 

\_Cleander.'\ Yea, but howe will ye prove that 
he is not Erostrato, having such presumptions 
to the contrarie ? or how shall it be thought 
that you are Philogano, when an other taketh 
upon him this same name, and for proofe bring- 5 
eth him for a witnesse, which hath bene ever 
reputed here for Erostrato ? 

Philogano. I will tel you, sir. Let me be kept 
here fast in prison, and at my charges let there 
be some man sent into Sicilia, that may bring 10 
hither with him two or three of the honestest 
men in Cathanea, and by them let it be proved 



go ^UppOflfrSf [Act v. 

if I or this other be Philogano, and whether he 
be Erostrato or Dulipo my servant : and if you 
finde me contrarie, let me suffer death for it. 15 

Pasiphilo. I will go salute Master Doctour. 

Cle. It will aske great labour and great ex- 
pences to prove it this way, but it is the best 
remedie that I can see. 

Pa. God save you, sir. 20 

Cle. And reward you as you have deserved. 

Pa, Then shall he give me your favour 
continually. 

Cle. He shall give you a halter, knave and 
villein that thou arte. ^5 

Pa. I knowe I am a knave, but no villein. 
I am your servaunt. 

Cle. I neither take thee for my servant, nor 
for my friend. 

Pa. Why ? wherein have I offended you, sir } 30 

Cle. Hence to the gallowes, knave. 

Pa. What ! softe and faire, sir, I pray you. 
/, prasequar: you are mine elder. 

Cle. I will be even with you, be you sure, 
honest man. 35 

Pa. Why, sir ? I never offended you. 

Cle. Well, I will teach you. Out of my 
sight, knave ! 

Pa. What? I am no dogge, I would you 
wist ! 40 



Scene v.] ^UppO^tH 9 1 

Cle. Pratest thou yet, villein ? I will make 
thee — 

Pa, What will you make me ? I see wel the 
more a man doth suffer you, the worsse you 
are. 45 

Ck. Ah, villein ! if it were not for this gen- 
tleman, I wold tell you what I — 

Pa. Villein ? nay, I am as honest a man as 
you. 

Cie. Thou liest in thy throate, knave. 50 

Phi. O sir, stay your wisedome. 

Pa. What, will you fight ? marie, come 
on. 

Cie. Well, knave, I will meete with you 
another time; goe your way. 55 

Pa. Even when you list, sir, I will be your 
man. 

Ck. And if I be not even with thee, call me 
cut. 

Pa. Nay, by the masse, all is one, I care 60 
not, for I have nothing : if I had either landes 
or goods, peradventure you would pull me into 
the la we. \_Ex2i Pasiphilo.'] 

Phi. Sir, I perceive your pacience is moved. 

Cle. This villaine ! — but let him goe ; I 65 
will see him punished as he hath deserved. 
Now to the matter — how said you ? 

4* — . Qq, (•) 47 — Qq, (.) 



92 ^uppOfi^e0 [Actv. 

Phi. This fellow hath disquieted you, Lawyers 
sir : peradventure you would be loth to ^""^ "^^" 
be troubled any further ? to get 

Cle. Not a whit : say on, and let him money, 
go with a vengeance. 

Phi. I say, let them send at my charge to 
Cathanea. 

Cle, Yea, I remember that wel, and it is the 75 
surest way as this case requireth. But tel me, 
how is he your servant ? and how come you by 
him? Enforme me fully in the matter. 

Phi. I will tell you, sir. When the Turkes 
won Otranto — 80 

Cle. Oh, you put me in remembrance of my 
mishappes ! 

Phi. How, sir? 

Cle. For I was driven among the rest out of 
the towne (it is my native countrey), and there 85 
I lost more than ever I shall recover againe 
while I live. 

Phi. Alas, a pitifull case, by S. Anne ! 

Cle. Well, proceede. 

Phi. At that time (as I saide) there were cer- 90 
taine of our countrey that scoured those costes 
upon the seas with a good barke, well appointed 
for the purpose, and had espiall of a Turkey 
vessell that came laden from thence with great 
aboundance of riches. 95 

88 5. Qi, Saint. 



Scene V] g)UpjJO0e0 93 

Cle. And peradventure most of mine, a gentle 

Phi. So they boarded them, and in the suppose. 
end overcame them, and brought the goods to 
Palermo, from whence they came, and amongst 
other things that they had was this villeine myioo 
servaunt, a boy at that time, I thinke not past 
five yeeres olde. 

Cle. Alas, I lost one of that same age there. 

Phi. And I beyng there, and liking the childes 
favour well, proffered them foure and twentieio5 
ducates for him, and had him. 

Cle. What ? was the childe a Turke ? or had 
the Turkes brought him from Otranto ? 

Phi. They saide he was a childe of Otranto, 
but what is that to the matter? once xxiiii du-iio 
cattes he cost me ; that I wot well. 

Cle. Alas, I speake it not for that, sir. I 
woulde it were he whome I meane. 

Phi. Why, whom meane you, sir ? a crafty 

Li. Beware, sir ; be not to lavish. suppose. 

Cle. Was his name Dulipo then ? or had he 
not another name ? 

Li. Beware what you say, sir. 

Phi. What the devill hast thou to doe ? Du- 
lipo ? No, sir; his name was Carino. no 

Li. Yea, well said. Tell all, and more to, 
doe. 

Cle. O Lord, if it be as I thinke, how happie 



94 &uppos?efl; [actv. 

were I ? and why did you change his name, 
then ? 125 

Phi. We called him Dulipo, bycause when 
he cryed, as children doe sometimes, he woulde 
alwayes cry on that name Dulipo. 

Cle. Well then, I see well it is my owne 
onely childe, whome I loste when I loste my 130 
countrie. He was named Carino after his grand- 
father ; and this Dulipo, whome he alwayes re- 
membred in his lamenting, was his foster father, 
that nourished him and brought him up. 

Li. Sir, have I not told you enough of the 135 
falshood of Ferara ? This gentleman will not 
only picke your purse, but beguile you of your 
servaunt also, and make you beleve he is his son. 

Cle, Well, goodfellow, I have not used to lie. 

Li. Sir, no ; but every thing hath a begin- 140 
ning. 

Cle. Fie, Philogano ! have you not the least 
suspecte that may be of me. 

Li, No, marie ; but it were good he had the 
most suspecte that may be. 145 

Cle. Well, hold thou thy peace a litle, good 
f [ejllow. I pray you tell me, Philogano, had 
the child any remembrance of his fathers name, 
his mothers name, or the name of his familie ? 

129 it is my. Q3, he is mine. 
134 nourished him. Q3 omits ^/i«. 
147 felloiv. Q2, follow. 



Scene v.] ^UPpO0e0 95 

Phi. He did re-member them, and could name 150 
his mother also ; but sure I have forgotten the 
name. 

Li. I remember it well enough. 

Phi. Tell it then. 

Li. Nay, that I will not, marie; you have 155 
tolde him too much al ready. 

Phi. Tell it, I say, if thou can. 

Li. Can ? yes, by the masse, I can wel 
enough ; but I wil have my tong pulled out 
rather than tell it, unlesse he tell it first. Doe 160 
you not perceive, sir, what he goeth about ? 

Cle. Well, I will tell you then. My name 
you know already ; my wife, his mother's name, 
was Sophronia ; the house that I came of they 
call Spiagia. 165 

Li. I never heard him speake of Spiagia, 
but in deede I have heard him say his mothers 
name was Sophronia. But what of that ? a 
great matter, I promise you ! It is like enoughe 
that you two have compact together to deceive 170 
my maister. 

Cle. What nedeth me more evident tokens ? 
This is my sonne, out of doubt, whom I lost 
eighteen yeares since ; and a thousand thousand 
times have I lamented for him. He shuld have 175 
also a mould on his left shoulder. 

Li. He hath a moulde there in deede; and 



96 ^ttppO0eSi [Act V. 

an hole in an other place to. I would your nose 
were in it. 

Cle. Faire wordes, fellow Litio ! Oh, I pray 180 
you, let us goe talke with him. O fortune, 
howe much am I bounde to thee, if I finde my 
Sonne ! 

Phi. Yea, how little am I beholden to for- 
tune, that know not where my sonne is become ; 185 
and you, whome I chose to be mine advocate, 
will nowe (by the meanes of this Dulipo) be- 
come mine adversarie ! 

Cle. Sir, let us first goe find mine ; and a right 
I warrant you yours will be founde also, suppose. 
ere it be long. 

Phi. God graunt ! Goe we, then. 

Cle. Since the dore is open, I will [neither] 
knocke nor cal, but we will be bolde to goe in. 

Li. Sir, take you heede, least he leade you to 195 
some mischiefe. 

Phi. Alas, Litio, if my sonne be loste what 
care I what become of me ? 

Li. Well, I have tolde you my minde, sir ; 
doe you as you please. 200 

Exeunt. Damon and Psiteria come in. 

193 Since. Q3, Sith. neither^ Qi. Q2, Q3, never. 



Scene VL] ^UppOHtS 97 

SCENA SEXTA. 

Damon, Psiteria. 

'[Damon.'J Come hither, you olde kallat, you 
tatling huswife, that the devill cut oute your 
tong ! tell me, howe could Pasiphilo know of 
this geere but by you ? 

Psiteria. Sir, he never knewe it of me ; he 5 
was the firste that tolde me of it. 

Da, Thou liest, old drabbe ; but I would ad- 
vise you tel me the truth, or I wil make those 
old bones rattle in your skin. 

Ps. Sir, if you finde me contrarie, kill me. 10 

Da. Why, where shoulde he talke with thee ? 

Ps. He talked with me of it here in the 
streete. 

Da. What did you here ? 

Ps. I was going to the weavers for a webbe 15 
of clothe you have there. 

Da. And what cause coulde Pasiphilo have 
to talke of it, unlesse thou began the mater first ? 

Ps, Nay, he began with me, sir, reviling me 
because I had tolde you of it : I asked him how 20 
he knewe of it, and he said he was in the stable 
when you examined me ere while. 

Da. Alas, alas ! what shall I doe then ? In 
at dores, olde whore ; I wil plucke that tong of 
thine out by the rootes one day. Alas, it greeveth 25 



98 ^UppOfiieflf [Act V. 

me more that Pasiphilo knoweth it than all the 
rest. He that will have a thing kept secrete, 
let him tell it to Pasiphilo; the people shall 
knowe it, and as many as have eares and no mo. 
By this time he hath tolde it in a hundreth 30 
places. Cleander was the firste, Erostrato the 
seconde, and so from one to another throughout 
the citie. Alas ! what dower, what mariage 
shall I nowe prepare for my daughter? O poore 
dolorous Damon, more miserable than miserie it 35 
selfe, would God it were true that Poly- ^^^^ ^^^^ 
nesta tolde me ere while, that he who suppose 
hathe deflowred hir is of no servile es- brought to 
tate (as hitherto he hath bene supposed 
in my service), but that he is a gentleman, borne 40 
of a good parentage in Sicilia. Alas ! small riches 
shoulde content me, if he be but of an honest 
familie ; but I feare that he hathe devised these 
toyes to allure my daughtres love. Well, I wil 
goe examine hir againe ; my minde givcth me 45 
that I shall perceive by hir tale whether it be 
true or not. But is not this Pasiphilo that com- 
meth out of my neighbours house ? What the 
devill ayleth him to leape and laughe so like a 
foole in the high way ? 50 

Pasiphilo commeth out of the [^house"] laughing, 

48 houie. Qq, towne, but the change is noted in Qi, ** Faultes 
escaped correction." 



Scene VII.] ^UPPO0^Si 99 

SCENA SEPTIMA. 
[PasiphiIot~\ Damon. 

\_Pasiphilo.'\ O God, that I might finde Damon 
at home. 

Damon \aside~\ . What the divill would he 
with me ? 

Pa. That I may be the iirste that shall bring 5 
him these newes. 

Da. [^aside\. What will he tell me, in the 
name of God ? 

Pa. O Lord, how happie am I ? Loke where 
he is ! 10 

Da. What newes, Pasiphilo, that thou arte 
so merie ? 

Pa. Sir, I am mery to make you glad. I 
bring you joyfull newes. 

Da. And that I have nede of, Pasiphilo. 15 

Pa. I knowe, sir, that you are a sorowfull 
man for this mishap that hath chaunced in your 
house ; peradventure you thoughte I had not 
knowen of it. But let it passe ; plucke up your 
sprits and rejoyce ; for he that hath done you 20 
this injurie is so well borne and hath so riche 
parents that you may be glad to make him your 
Sonne in law. 

Pasiphilo^ Damon, Qi. Q2, Q3, Pkilogano, Damon. 

LOfC. 



100 ^ttppO0r0 [ActV. 

Da. How knowest thou ? 

Pa. His father Philogano, one of the wor- 
thiest men in all Cathanea, is nowe come to the 
citie, and is here in your neighbours house. 

Da. What, in Erostratos house ? 

Pa. Nay, in Dulipos house : for where you 
have alwayes supposed this gentleman to be 
Erostrato, it is not so, but your servaunt, whom 
you have emprisoned hitherto, supposed to be 
Dulipo, he is in dede Erostrato : and that other 
is Dulipo. And thus they have alwayes, even 
since their first arival in this citie, exchaunged 
names, to the ende that Erostrato the maister, 
under the name of Dulipo a servant, might be 
entertained in your house, and so winne the love 
of your daughter. 

Da. Wei, then, I perceive it is even as Poli- 
nesta told me. 

Pa. Why, did she tell you so ? 

Da. Yea : but I thought it but a tale. 

Pa. Well, it is a true tale, and here they will 
be with you by and by : both Philogano, this 45 
worthie man, and Maister Doctor Cleander. 

Da. Cleander ? what to doe ? 

Pa. Cleander ? Why, therby lies another 
tale, the moste fortunate adventure that ever you 
heard : wot you what ? this other Dulipo, whome 
all this while we supposed to be Erostrato, is 



Scene VIII] ^UppO000 lOI 

founde to be the sonne of Cleander, whome he 
lost at the losse of Otranto, and was after solde 
in Sicilla too this Philogano : the strangest case 
that ever you heard : a man might make a com- 55 
edie of it. They wil come even straight, and 
tell you the whole circumstance of it themselves. 

Da. Nay, I will first goe heare the storie of 
this Dulipo, be it Dulipo or Erostrato that I 
have here within, before I speake with Philogano. 60 

Pa. So shall you doe well, sir ; I will goe 
tell them that they may stay a while ; — but loke 
where they come. 

Damon goeth in; Scenese, Cleander and 
Philogano come upon the stage. 

ScENA viii. 

Scenesey Cleander y Philogano. [^CarinOy i. e. Dulipo 
no lo?iger disguised as Erostrato. ] 

[«S'^<?«^j^.] Sir, you shal not nede to excuse 
the matter any further; since I have received 
no greater injurie than by words, let them passe 
like wind ; I take them well in worthe, and am 
rather well pleased than offended : for it shall 5 
bothe be a good warning to me another time 
howe to trust every man at the first sighte ; yea, 
and I shall have good game here after to tel this 
pleasant story another day in mine owne coun- 
trey. 10 



102 g>ttppOS?e0 [ActV. 

Oleander. Gentleman, you have reason, and 
be you sure that as many as heare it will take 
great pleasure in it. And you, Philogano, may 
thinke that God in heaven above hath ordained 
your comming hither at this present, to the ende 15 
I mighte recover my lost sonne, v^^hom by no 
other meanes I coulde ever have founde oute. 

Philogano, Surely, sir, I thinke no lesse ; for 
I think that not so much as a leafe falleth from 
the tree without the ordinance of God. But let 20 
us goe seke Damon, for me thinketh every day 
a yeare, every hour a daye, and every minute to 
much, till I see my Erostrato. 

Cle. I cannot blame you, goe we then. Cari- 
no, take you that gentleman home in the meane 25 
time ; the fewer the better to be present at such 
affaires. Pasiphilo stayeth their going in. 

ScENA ix. 
\_Pasiphilo,'\ Oleander. 

[Pasiphilo.'^ Maister Doctor, will you not 
shew me this favour, to tell me the cause of 
your displeasure ? 

Oleander. Gentle Pasiphilo, I muste needes 
confesse I have done thee wrong, and that I 5 

Pasiphilo, Cleander, Qi. Q2, Q.3, Philogano, Oleander . 



Scene X] ^UppO0eS> IO3 

beleved tales of thee whiche in deede I finde 
now contrary. 

Pa. 1 am glad, then, that it proceeded rather 
of ignorance than of malice. 

Cle, Yea, beleve me, Pasiphilo. 10 

Pa. O, sir, but yet you shoulde not have given 
me suche foule wordes. 

Cle. Well, content thy selfe, Pasiphilo, I am 
thy frende as I have alwayes bene : for proofe 
whereof, come suppe with me to night, and 15 
from day to day this seven night be thou my 
guest. But, beholde, here commeth Damon out 
of his house. Here they come all togither. 

SCENA DECIMA. 

Cleandefy Philogano, Dafnon, ErostratOy Pasiphilo, 
Polinesta. \_Later~\ Nevola, and other servaunts. 

\_Cleander.'] We are come unto you, sir, to 
turne you [r] sorowe into joy and gladnesse : the 
sorow, we meane, that of force you have sus- 
tained- since this mishappe of late fallen in your 
house. But be you of good comforte, sir, and 5 
assure your selfe that this yong man which 
youthfully and not maliciously hath committed 
this amorous offence is verie well able (with 
consent of this worthie man his father) to make 

17 commeth. ^3, corns. 8 able, ^i, hable. 



104 Supposes? [actv. 

you sufficient amendes : being borne in Ca- lo 
thanea of Sicilia, of a noble house, no way in- 
feriour unto you, and of wealth (by the reporte 
of suche as knowe it) farre exceeding that of 
yours. 

Philogano. And I here, in proper person, doe 15 
presente unto you, sir, not onely my assured 
frendship and brotherhoode, but do earnestly 
desire you to accepte my poore childe (though 
unworthy) as your sonne in lawe ; and for re- 
compence of the injurie he hath done you I pro- 20 
fer my whole lands in dower to your daughter : 
yea, and more would, if more I might. 

Cle. And I, sir, who have hitherto so earn- 
estly desired your daughter in mariage, doe 
now willingly yelde up and quite claime to this 25 
yong man, who both for his yeares and for the 
love he beareth hir, is most meetest to be hir 
husband. For wher I was desirous of a wife 
by whom I might have yssue, to leave that litle 
which God hath sent me, now have I litle neede, 30 
that (thankes be to God) have founde my deerely 
beloved sonne, whom I loste of a childe at the 
siege of Otranto. 

Damon. Worthy gentleman, your friendship, 
your alliaunce, and the nobilitie of your birthe 35 
are suche, as I have muche more cause to de- 
sire them of you than you to request of me that 



Scene X] g)UppO0e0 IO5 

which is already graunted. Therefore I gladly 
and willingly receive the same, and thinke my 
selfe moste happie now of all my life past that 40 
I have gotten so toward a sonne in lawe to my 
selfe, and so worthye a father in lawe to my 
daughter : yea, and muche the greater is my 
contentation, since this worthie gentleman, 
Maister Cleander, doth holde himselfe satisfied. 45 
And now behold your sonne. 

Erostrato. Oh, father ! {Bursts into tears.'\ 

Pasiphilo. Beholde the naturall love of the 
childe to the father: for inwarde joye he cannot 
pronounce one worde, in steade wherof he send- 50 
eth sobbes and teares to tell the effect of his 
inward in[t]ention. But why doe you abide 
here abrode ? wil it please you to goe into the 
house, sir ? 

Da. Pasiphilo hath saide well : will it please 55 
you to goe in, sir ? \Enter Nevola with chains.'] 

Nevola. Here I have brought you, sir, bothe 
fetters and boltes. 

Da. Away with them now. 

Ne. Yea, but what shal I doe with them ? 60 

Da. Marie, I will tell thee, Nevola : to make 
a righte ende of our supposes, lay one of those 
boltes in the fire, and make thee a suppositorie 
as long as mine arme, God save the sample. 

52 intention f Qi. Qz^ Q^i invention. 



io6 g)UppOS?e0 [ActV. 

Nobles and gentlemen, if you suppose that our 65 
supposes have given you sufficient cause of de- 
lighte, shewe some token, whereby we may sup- 
pose you are content. 

Et plauserunt. 



FINIS, 



0ott& to ^uppojsejj 

First Performance of Gli Soppositi (in prose) at 

Ferrara. Bernardino Prosper! to the Marchioness of Mantua, 
Feb. 8, 1509. 

Marti sera il Revo. Cardinale fece la sua composta per D. Lu- 
dovico Ariosto, comedia invero per moderna,' tuta delectevole et 
piena de moralita et parole et gesti da riderne assai cum triplice fal- 
lacie o sia sottopositione. Lo argomento fo recitato per lo compo- 
sitore, et e bellissimo et multo accomodato a li modi et costumi nostri, 
perche il caso accadete a Ferrara, secundo lui finge, come credo 
forse che V. S. ne habii noticia, et per questo non me extendo a 
nararglela altrimenti. Li intermeci furono tuti canti et musiche, et in 
fine de la comedia, Vulcano cum Ciclopi baterno saette a sono de 
piffari, battendo il tempo cum martelli et cum sonagli che tenivano 
a le gambe, et facto questo acto de le saette col menar de' mantici, 
fecero una morescha cum dicti martelli.^ 

First Performance of I Suppositi (in verse) at 

Rome. Alfonso Pauluzzo to the Duke of Ferrara, March 8, 1 579. 
Fui a la Comedia Dominica sera et feceme intrare Mons. de Ran- 
goni dove era Nostro Signore con questi suoi Reverendissimi Cardinale 
gioveni in una anticamera di Cibo, et li pasegiava Nostro Signore 
per lassare introdure quella qualita di homini li parea : et intrati a quel 
numero voleva Sua Santita, se aviamo al loco dela Comedia, dove 
il prefato Nostro Signore se pose ala porta, e senza strepito, con la 
sua benedictione, permesse intrare che li parea ; et introsi nela sala, 
che da un lato era la sena et da laltro era loco facto de gradi dal cielo 
de la sala sino quasi in tera, dove era la sedia de Pontifico: quale, 
di poiforno intrati li seculari, intro et posesi sopra la sedia sua quale 
era cinque gradi alta de terra, et lo seguitorno li Reverendissimi con 
li Ambasatori, et da ogni lato de la sedia si poseno sicundo I'ordine 
loro. Et seduto il populo, che poteva essere in numero de dua mila 
homini, sonandosi li pifari, si lasso cascare la tela, dove era pincto 

1 For this use of />«r, see Blanc, Italienische Grammatik^ p. 568. 

2 Campori: Notixie per la vita di L. Ariosto, p. 69. Ferrazzi, p. ZOO. 
D' Ancona, ii, p. 394, Note 2. 



io8 Jl^otesf 

Fra Mariano ^ con alcuni diavoli che giugavano con esso da ogni late 
de la tella, et poi in mezo de la tella v' era un breve che diceva: 
^esti sono It capreci de Fra Mariano. Et sonandosi tutavia et il 
Papa mirando con el suo occhiale la sena che era molto bela, de 
mano de Rafaele, et representavasi bene per mia fe ferara ^ de pro- 
spective, che molto forno laudate: et mirando anchora el cielo che 
molto si representava belo, et poi li candeleri che erano formati in 
lettere, che ogni lettera subteneva cinque torcie, et diceano LEO X. 
PON. MAXIMVS. Sopragionse el Nuncio in seno, et recito 
r argumento, in demonstrar che Ferara era venuta lie sotto fede de 
Cibo per non tenerse de menor vaglia di Mantoa, che era sta por- 
tata I'anno passato da Sancta Maria in Portico: ^ et bischizo sopra 
il titolo de la comedia, che e de Suppoaiti, de tal modo che il Papa 
ne rise assai gagliardamente con li astanti 5 et per quanto intendo se 
ni scandalizorno Francesi alquanto sopra quelli Suppositi. Se recito 
la comedia et fii molto bene pronunciata; et per ogni acto se li inter- 
medio una musica de pifari, de cornamusi, de dui corneti, de viola 
et leuti, de I'organeto che e tanto variato de voce che dono al Papa 
Mons. Illustrissimo de bona memoria/ et insieme vi era un flauto 
et una vece che molto bene si commendo. Li fu anche un concerto 
de voce in musica, che non comparse per mio judicio cossi bene 
come le altre musice. L' ultimo intermedio fu la moresca, che si 
represento la Fabula de Gorgon, et fu assai bella; ma non in queUa 
perfectione chio ho visto representare in sala de Vostra Signoriaj et 
con questa se fine. 

Elizabethan comment on Supposes. Gabriel Har- 
vey, in the copy of Q2 signed by him with the date " Londini, 
Cal. Sept. 1577," now in the Bodleian Library, writes at the bot- 
tom of the title-page of this division of Gascoigne's works: *' The 
best part, Hearbes j especially, the Comedy, and Tragedy, excel- 
lent," and at the top of the same page: '* A fine Comedie : and 
a statelie Tragedie." At the end of the Prologue to Supposes 
he adds: "To coosen the expectation, one notable point in a 

1 Successor of Bramante in the officio del piombo and also Leo X's 
chief court jester. 

2 The text adopted is that of Ademollo {Carnevale di Roma. Docu- 
menti Inediti., 1499-1520. Firenze, 1886), wliich appears to be the most 
accurate. Campori here read /oraOTi, and Capelli /orwe. 

I Alluding to the play acted the year before, the scene of which was 
Mantua. It was probably Grasso's Eutichia. 
4 The Cardinal of Arragon. 



ipotesf 



109 



Comedie : and one of the singularities of Unico Aretino, in his 
courting Italian Comedies." 

Gascoigne's debt to the Italian versions of Sup- 
poses. Several editions of Ariosto's comedy were published be- 
fore the date of Gascoigne's translation^ for the prose version (P), 
I have used the Rome edition of 1524 5 for the verse (V), that of 
Venice of 155 i. Two French translations had also appeared, of 
which I have seen one, that of J. P. de Mesmes, published at Paris 
in 1552 — " Ariosto La Comedie des supposez. En Italien et Fran- 
^oys. " From this Gascoigne possibly took his title, which is not a 
very happy translation of the Italian original, but he appears to have 
taken nothing more. He had evidently both the prose and the 
verse of the Italian original under his eye ; this may be gathered from 
the following table showing the names of the characters, which differ 
somewhat in the two Italian versions, and are taken by Gascoigne, 
sometimes from one, sometimes from the other : 



Prose 


Verse 


Gascoigne 


Nutrice 


Balia 


Balia, the 


Polymnesta 


Polinesta 


Polynesta 


Clean dro 


Cleandro 


Cleander 


Pasiphilo 


Pasiphilo 


Pasiphilo 


Charione \ 
Carione 1 


Carione ) 
Charione ] 


Carion 


Dulipo 


Dulippo 


j Dulipo 
\ Dulippo 


Erostrato 


Erostrato 


Erostrato 


Dalio 


Dalio 


Dalio 


Crapino 


Caprino 


Crapino 


Sanese 


Sanese 


Scenaese 


Servo 


Servo 


Paquetto i 
Petrucio 


Damone 


Damonio 


Damon 


Nebbia 


Nevola 


Nevola 


Psiteria 


Psiteria 


Psiteria 


Philogono 


Philogono 


Philogano 


Lyco 


Litio 


Litio 


Ferrarese 


Ferrarese 


Ferrarese 



I See note 37, 24, on p. I15. 



no 0Ott!$ 

Of course, too much importance must not be attached to minor 
differences : in both Italian and English texts, / and y are practically 
interchangeable 5 and while Dulipo only is found in P, both forms 
occur in V, though in the latter pp is the rule j in the English 
text p is the rule of Qi, pp of Q3, but the printer is so blind to 
the difference that the catch-word at the bottom of p. 19 of Qi 
is printed Dulippo, and the first word on p. 20 Dulipo. Still, 
the conclusion formed from a comparison of the three lists must 
be that both P and V were used, and this is abundantly confirmed 
by an examination of the texts. The English version has phrases 
which are found, sometimes only in P, sometimes only in V. 
Thus in the first scene, line 15, "I have given you a wherfore for 
this why many times," is from P j so are lines 1 16-18, " — he cast 
aside both long gowne and bookes, and determined on me only 
to apply his study ' ' 5 but slight phrases at the end of the scene 
show that V was also used. It wUl be seen from a comparison 
of passages such as the following (from i, ii) that both P and V|- 
were subjected to careful scrutiny : 

P. 

Cle. lo la Dio gratia de mia eta ho assai buona vista, e sento in 
me poca differentia di quel ch' io ero di venticinque, o trenta anni. 

Pas. E perche no, sei tu forsi vecchio ? 

Cle. Io sono nelli cinquanta sei anni. 

Pas. Ne dice dieci mancho. 

Cle. Ch' di tu, dieci mancho ? 

Pas. Dico ch' io te istimavo de dieci anni mancho, non mostri 
passare trenta sei, o trent' otto al piu. 

Gascoigne. 

Cle. In good fayth and I thanke God I have mine eye sighte 
good and perfit, little worse than when I was but twentie yeres 
olde. 

Pa. How can it be otherwise ? you are but yong. 

Cle. I am fiftie yeres olde. 

Pa. He telles ten lesse than he is. 

Cle. What sayst thou of ten lesse ? 

Pa. I say I woulde have thoughte you tenne lesse, you looke 
like one of sixe and thirtie, or seven and thirtie at the moste. 



0OttS III 



V. 

C. lo de la etade mia ho assai Dio gratia, 
Buona vista, ne molto differentia 
In me sento da quel che solevo essere 
Di venti anni o di trenta. P. perche credere 
Debb' io altrimenti ? non sete voi giovene ? 

C. Son ne cinquanta anni. P. piu di dodici 
Dice di manco. C. che di manco dodici 
Di tu ? P. che vi estimavo piu di dodici 
Anni di manco. non mostrate a 1' aria 
Passar trentasette anni. 

It is inconceivable that variations so slight should have been in- 
troduced later from either version ; Gascoigne must have used P 
and V simultaneously. The differences betvi^een P and V are 
not very great, and much of the English translation might have 
been taken from either : but so far as one can judge, Gascoigne 
adheres more closely to V, though with constant reference to P, 
and occasionally (as in v, vi) with entire reliance on it. Further 
details are given below. Gascoigne' s additions to the original are 
marked — G. 

5. The Prologue is adapted from P and V, as will be seen 
from the following extracts, being the first parts of each: 

P. 

Qui siamo per farvi d' una nuova Comedia spettatori. il nome e 
li Soppositi, per che de soppositioni h tutta plena. Che li fanciuUi 
sieno stati per ladietro soppositi, so che non pur nelle Comedie, ma 
letto havete nelle historic anchora, et forse e qui tra voi chi Iha 
in esperientia havuto. Ma che li vecchi sieno da li gioveni soppo- 
siti, vi debbe per certo parer nuovo et strano, et pur li vecchi alcuna 
volta si soppongono similmente, il che vi sia nella nuova fabula notissi- 
mo. Non pigliate benigni Auditor! questo sopponere in mala parte, 
che bene in altra guisa si soppone, che non lascio nelli suoi lascivi libri 
Elephantide figurato, et in altri anchora che non s' hanno li con- 
tentiosi Dialetici imaginato. qui con altre soppositioni il servo per lo 
libero, e il libero per lo servo si soppone. et vi confessa I'autore 
havere in questo et Plauto et Terentio seguitato, etc. 



112 ji^oteflf 

V. 

Che talhora i fanciulli si soppongano 
A nostra etade ; e per adietro siano 
Stati non meno piu volte soppositi j 
Oltre che voi I'habbiate ne le fabule 
Veduto, e letto ne T antique historie j 
Forse e qui alcuno che in esperientia- 
L' ha havuto anchor : ma che li vecchi siano 
Similmente da i gioveni soppositi 
Nuovo, e strano vi dee parer certissima- 
Mente, e pur ancho i vecchi si soppongono : 
Ma voi ridete, oh che cosa da ridere 
Havete da me udita ? ah ch' io mi inmagino 
Donde cotesto riso dee procedere. 
Voi vi pensate che qualibe sporcitia 
. Vi voglia dire, o farvene spettacolo. 

9> 50-53- In deede . . . flames of love. — G. 

Gabriel Harvey solemnly comments upon this scene : " They 
speak of the Doctor to serve their owne turne j but he is highly 
commejT^d 5n i;^ 68 [iv, ^iji, ,116, v, x, 44J,, and worthily, 
as should seem by anie course of his owne, in acts, or words." 

ID, 80. I can not tell . . . Greeke to me. — G. 

13. The stage-direction at the end of i, i, and the pre- 
sence and aside of the Nurse in ii, are inserted by Gascoigne. 

16, 76-77. The trade ... in ragges. Not a good 

translation of the verses quoted hi the original : Opes dat Sanctio 
Justiniana ex aliis paleas, ex istis colli ge grana. 

16, 93. by God ... in these dayes. — G. 

18, 148. He speaketh . . . faste. P. Parla coi morti, 

che digiunano altresi. V : the same words otherwise arranged. 
Gascoigne appears to have misunderstood the original, which is an 
imprecation, — in the imperative, not the indicative mood, — 
equivalent to " I would you were enjoying a dead man's fast." 

21, 21. whiche . . . and al. — G. 

22, 82-86. as the flie . . . consumption. — G. Here 
and elsewhere in Gascoigne' s additions to the play, we have the 
marks of the euphuistic style — similes taken from natural history, 
balanced clauses, and alliteration. 



jliote0 113 

23. 90-97- I have free libertie . . . the more I de- 
sire. — G. 

22, 106-11. Alas, the pleasant tast . . . dolours. 

— G. See note above as to euphuism. 

24. Stage-direction. — G. 

25. Scena iiii. This little scene gives a good example of 
Gascoigne's way of dealing with his originals : 



Duupo, Crapin Ragazzo di Erostrato. 

Dul. O Crapin che e de Erostrato ? 

Cra. De Erostrato sono libri, veste e denari, e molte altre cose, 

ch' egli ha in casa. 
Dul. Ah ghiotto io te dimando che minsegni Erostrato. 
Cra. A compito, o a distesa ? 

Dul. S'io ti prendo ne i capilli, te farro respondermi a proposito. 
Cra. Tarrvo. 
Dul. Aspettami un poco. 
Cra. Io non ci ho tempo. 

Dul. Per dio proveremo, chi di noi corre piu forte. 
Cra. Tu mi dovevi dare vantaggio, che hai piu lunghe le gambe. 
Dul. Dime Crapino che e de Erastrato ? 
Cra. Usci questa mattina per tempo di casa, e non e mai ritornato, 

io Io vidi poi in piazza che me disse ch' io venissi a torre 

questo cesto, e che tornasse li dove Dalio me aspettaria e 

cosi ritorno. 
Dul. Va adunque e se tu il vedi digli chio ho gran bisogno de par- 

larli, meglio e che anch' io vada alia piazza che forse Io 

trovero. 

V. 

Caprino, Ragazzo, Dulippo finto. 

Di Erostrato ? dirotelo, di Erostrato 
Son molti libri : e molte masseritie, 
E vesti, e panni lini, e cosi simili. 
D' Io ti domando che m' insegni Erostrato. 



114 ipotesf 

C. A compito, o a distesa ? D. che sea mettere 

Le man ti vengo ne le orecchie, creditu 

Ch' io ti faro rispondere a proposito ? 
C. Tarvo. D. aspettami un poco. C. per Dio scusami 

C hor non ci ho V agio. D. giocaremo a correre. 
C. Tu c' hai piu lunghe le gambe dovevime 

Dar vantaggio. D. horsu dimmi che h. di Erostrato ? 

C. Io r ho lasciato in piazza, ove ricorrere 
M' ha fatto a tor questo capestro, volsiti 
Dir canestro, et ha seco Dalio, e dissemi 
Che a la porta del Duca m' aspettavano. 

D. Se tu Io truovi, digli che grandissimo 
Bisogno havrei di parlarli. deh aspettami, 

Gli e meglio ch' anche io venga, che trovandolo 
Potro senza suspetto, ne men commoda 
Mente, tra via li miei concetti esprimcrli. 

The spelling " Crapino. Dulipo " is from P j but a closer ex- 
amination shows that V is the version the translator has mainly- 
relied upon. V puts : * * che e di Erostrato, ' ' at the end of the 
preceding scene instead of the beginning of this : orecchie (V) is 
chosen, not capilli (P). The pun capestro-ca'vestro and the men- 
tion of the Duke's palace occur only in P. The word-play in gen- 
eral is not very happily rendered, and "going to his house" is a 
positive mistranslation. The stage-direction, as in other cases, is 
inserted by Gascoigne. 

27, 3. in every streete and every by lane. P. hor 

nella piazza, hor nel cortile. The cortile is a square in Ferrara near 
the Piazza. 

27, 16-18. Yea, but so long ... in earnest. — G. 

This fondness for popular proverbs is characteristic of Gascoigne. 

29-30, 78-80. to follow this amorous enterprise 
. . . dread of shame. — G. 

30, 83-85. a salve for every sore ... a remedie. — G. 

30, 92. beyond S. Anthonies gate. P. de la porta 
del leone. V. de la porta de gli Angeli. 

32, 134-35. to the King of Naples. In the original the 
ambassadons are said to be on their way from Naples to Ferrara, 
with presents from the King to the Duke. 



iliotr0 115 

32, 135. the officers whom you cal customers. 

V, questi public! | Ladroni, che Doganieri si chiamono. 

32, 147. his Chauncelor. P. uno suo cancellario. But 
most of this scene is taken from V, 

33, 161-62. You would fayne . . • the hedge. — G. 

See note on 27, 16, above. 

35, 217-18. when he shall binde a strange name, 
and not his ow^ne. Loose translation of V. non essendoci j 
Scritto il suo nome, ma quel d'uno estraneo. 

35, 238-40. he that fisheth . . . a cods heade. — G. 

37, 24. and you also, sirra I P. e cosi dico a voi altri. 
V. e cosi ancho tu. Only one servant is mentioned in the names at 
the beginning of this scene in the original (P. El Sanese, el suo Servo. 
V. Senese. II suo Famiglio). Qi reads, The Scenese. Faumlus 
[obviously a misprint for Famulus] his servant. Q2 gives the names 
Paquetto and Petrucio : only the first has a speaking part j but the 
second probably suggested to Shakspere the name of his hero in The 
Taming of the Shreiv. 

37> ^^- Kaccanea. An abortive attempt to reproduce the 
original jest: 

P. 

Ser. De questo nome strano [i. e. Philogono] me ricordaro male, 
ma quella Castanea non mi dimenticaro gia. 

San. Che Castanea, io te dico Catania in tuo mal punto. 

V. 

F. cotesto si eteroclito 
Nome, per certo havro male in memoria. 
Ma non gia quella castagna, si facile- 
Mente mi scordaro. S. dico Cathanea 
E non castagna, in tuo mal punto. 

37, 37. in the house of Crisobolus. A reference to 
Ariosto's earlier comedy, the Cassaria, iv, vii, where the servant 
Trappola attempts to get out of a scrape by pretending to be dumb. 
Possibly the same actor took the servant's part in this scene. 

39, 3. Maiors officers. V. Ogni banchier, ogni ufficial 
di camera. 



ii6 Jl5otf0 

39, 8-1 o. an harlotrie . . . spurlings. A free translation 
of p. un luccietto d'una libra e meza et una pentola di ceci, e venti 
sparagi. 

39, 1 6. double ducke egges. A curious mistranslation 
of the original Joppioni (^ doubloons ) . 

40, 31. In faith now let me alone. V. Lascia pur 
fare a me. The remark is apparently addressed to Carion aside 
from Cleander, to whom it refers. " Let me deal with him." 

42, 76-77- A pretie paune ... on it. V. e debole | 
Pegno che sopra li hebrei non vi prestano. 

42,91-92. Surely ... money of him. An inadequate trans- 
lation of P. Questadebbe essere qualche cianciettache colui gli da da 
parte di questa giovane che Iha fatto impazzire, con speranza di 
trarne qualche guadagnetto. 

43> 107-09, they call him . . . upon it. The gross 
jest is Gascoigne's own. P. ha nome Rosso rasto, o Arosto, non 
lo so dire, ha un nome indiavolato. — V. si nomina | Arosto, o 
rospo, o grosco, io nol so esprimere | Ha un nome indiavolato. 

44, 127. That the devill take him else. V. oh che 

sel porti il diavolo. 

44> 135-37- I never spitte . . . from it. P. Io non 

tosso, ne sputo pur mai. vho vho vho, ^ vero chio sono adesso un 
poco infreddato, ma chi non e da questo tempo. 

44, 142-44. And that you are . . . see them. This 

coarse jest is only in P. 

45, 152. Nay, gesse you that. FromV. Ariosto omitted 
fi-om his second version the coarsest jest of the prose, and in this 
case Gascoigne followed his example. 

45, 167. he shall have a. &c. P. voglio che me cavi un 
capestro, che Timpicchi. 

45, 16S-69. In good faith . . . loste on him. V. Per 
Dio, per Dio, havra fatto gran perdita — it will be a great loss to him. 

45, 176. Foule fall you. — P. and V. Mai ti venga. — ill 
befall you ! 

46, 180. Scabbe catch you — P. fusti occiso — would you 
were killed! V. Fossuccio. In V there is a third insult, which 
Gascoigne has omitted. 

47, Actus III. Scena i. This is a good example of 
Gascoigne's careless, but, on the whole, vigorous fashion of ren- 



Jl^ote0 117 

dering his original. P, which is substantially the same as V, 
reads : 

Dal. Come siamo a casa, credo ch'io non ritrovaro del'ova che 
porta in quel cesto,un solo intiero, ma con chi parlo io ? dove dia- 
volo h rimasto anchora questo ghiotton, sera rimasto a dare la caccia 
a qualche cane, o a scherzare con Torso, ad ogni cosa che trovava 
per via se ferma, se vede facchino, o villano, o giudeo non lo terri- 
ano le catene che non gli andasse affar' qualche dispiacere, tu ver- 
rai pur una volta capestro, bisogna che di passo in passo te vadi 
aspettando, per Dio s'io tniovo pur un solo di quella ova rotto te 
rompero la testa. 

Cra. Si chio non potro sedere. 

Dal. Ah, frascha, frascha. 

Cra. S' io son frasca, son dunque mal sicuro a venire con un 
becco. 

Dal. S' io non fossi carico ti mostrarei s' io sono un becco. 

Cra. Rare volte t' ho veduto, che non sii carico, di vino, o di 
bastonate. 

Dal. Al dispetto chio non dico. 

Cra. Ah poltrone tu biastimi col cuore, e non osi con la lingua, 

48, 38-43. doe you make . . . boyled. Obviously 
from V: 

E pela i tordi, et i piccioni, et acconciami 

Cotesta schiena, con gran diligentia, 

E cosi il petto, e poi le masseritie 

Fa che sien'nette, e piu che specchio luchino : 

Come io ritorni, ti diro per ordine 

Qual debbilesso, e qual arosto cuocermi. 

49, 57-63- Now shall I . . . one ace. V reads: 

io faro ben conoscere 
A quel dottor pecorone, che studia 
Di diventare un becco, che in malitia 
E in cautele io non gli son per cedere. 

50, 6. at last . . . set up his rest. V. dolente al fin 
pir vadane. | II resto. The meaning is "stake all he has left." 

51, 17-18. as many crosses . . . brethren, i. e. no 

money at all. For this use of cross in the sense of coin^ see Murray's 



ii8 ^OttS 

Dictionary under "cross. 20." The theological form of expression 
is not found in the original. 

51, 3-9. Go in . . . names. A free translation of V: 

va in casa e di al Nevola 
Al Rosso, al Mantovano, che a me qui venghino 
Che dispensarli voglio in diverse opere. 
E tu poi te ne va ne la mia camera, 
E cerca molto ben per quello armario 
De le scritture, finche truovi un ruotolo 
D istrumenti, che parlano de la vendita 
Che fece Ugo mal pensa a mio Bisavolo 
De le terre da Ro : credo rogatone 
Fusse un ser Lippoda Piazza 

52, 15. from the depth of hell pitte. P. da casa del 

gran diavolo. 

52, 24-25. it hangeth . . . on the wall. V says "in the 
key-hole" — che lasciata pel medesimo | Effetto ho ne la toppa. 

53, 48. Alas, I should not have committed. The 

moralizing from this point to the end of the scene is largely 
Gascoigne's : in the original the father's reflections are more 
practical and to the point. P (V is the same in verse) ; lo, io 
solo son quello che merito essere punito, che me ho fidato lasciarla 
in guardia di questa puttana vecchia, s' io voleva che fusse ben 
custodita, la dovea custodire io, farla dormire nella camera mia, 
non tenere famigli giovini, non li fare un buon viso mai. o cara 
moglie mia adesso conosco la jattura ch' io feci quando di te rimasi 
privo, dhe perche gia tre anni quando io potteti non la marital ? se 
ben non cosi riccamente almen con piu honore 1' haverei fatto, io 
ho indugiato de anno in anno, de mese in mese per porla altamente, 
ecco che me ne accade, a chi volevo io darla, a un Signore ? o 
misero, o infelice, o sciagurato me, questo e ben quel dolore, che 
vince tutti gli altri, che perdere robba ? che morte de figliuoli, e de 
moglie ? questo e lo affanno solo che puo uccidere e me uccidera 
veramente, o Polymnesta la mia bonta verso te, la mia dementia 
non meritava cosi duro premio. 

55,4-5. master Casteling . . . S. Antonies gate. 
P. Nomico da Perugia. V. M. paulin da bibula ; | Sta presso a 
San Francesco. 



jpote0 119 

56, 19-25. he had the disbursing . . . canvas. V: 

Havea cura egli de lo spendere 
E di tenere i conti, e del riscuotere, 
Le chiavi de granari, in sua mano erano. 
Dulippo di qua, Dulippo di la, intimo 
• Egli al patrone, egli a i figliuoli in gratia, 
Era fa il tutto, egli d' oro finissimo, 
Di fango eramo noi altri, e di polvere. 

56, 23. magister factotum. Mr. Do-Everything 5 trans- 
lating : fa il tutto. 

56, 27. Pasi . . . venit. " Pasiphilo comes in suddenly 
and unexpectedly. " — G. 

S7> 36. a rumbling in my belly. V. Mi sentii in corpo 
non so che. 

57, 50-52. He shall be sure . . . belie. V reads: 

Chi la torra potra trovarle vergine 
Cr[e]atura nel corpo, o maschio, o femina, 
Se ben ella non e. 

57> 50-53- O God, how men may be deceived in 
a woman ! — G. 
57» 54-65. Aske the neighbours . . . hir else. 

A free rendering of P (with which V is practically identical): 
Dimanda la vicinanza de sua conditione, la megliore, la piu divota 
giovane del mondo, non pratica mai se non con suore, la piu parte 
del di sta in oratione, rarissime volte si vede in uscio, o in finestra, 
non s' ode che dalcuno innamorata sia, e una santarella, buon pro 
li faccia, colui che havera per moglie, guadagnara piu dote che 
non pensa, un par almen de lunghissime corna, se non piu mancare 
non li possono. 

58, I. To a gossip of myne heereby. P. Qui preso 
a una mia comare — V. Qua presso, a casa di mona Beritola. 

59, 35. I woulde not for. &c. — G. 

60, 46—47. Go . . . old trotte. V. va, ma in polvere. 

61, 15. at the water gate. P. fuori della porta di 
santo Paulo. 

63. Scena iii. Another instance of Gascoigne's lively but " 
inaccurate manner of translating : 



120 jpotefif 



p. 

Cra. O vecchia, o vecchiaccia sorda, non odi tu phantasma ? 

Psi. Dio faccia che tu non sia mai vecchio, perche a te non sia 
detto similmente. 

Cra. Vedi un poco se e Dulipo in casa. 

Psi. Ce e pur troppo, cosi non ci fusse egli mai stato. 

Cra. Dilli in servitio mio, che venghi sin qui chio vo parlargli. 

Psi. Non puo per ch'egli e impacciato. 

Cra. Fagli 1' ambasciata volto mio bello. 

Psi. Dhe capestro, io te dico che glie impacciato. 

Cra. E tu sei impazzata, e un gran fatto dirgli una parola. 

Psi. Ben sai che glie gran fatto ghiotto fastidioso. 

Cra. O asina indiscreta. 

Psi. O ti nasca la fistula ribaldello, che tu sarai impicato anchora. 

Cra. E tu sarai brugiata, brutta Strega, s'el cancaro non ti 

mangia prima. 

Psi. Se mi t'acosti te daro una bastonata. 

Cra. S'io piglio un sasso te spezzaro quella testaccia balorda. 

Psi. Hor sia in mai hora, credo che sia el diavolo che me viene 
a tentare. 

Ero. Crapino ritorna a me che stai tu a contendere ? &c. 



O buona donna, o vecchia, o brutta femina 

Vecchiaccia sorda : non odi phantasima ? 

P. Dio facci che tu vecchio non possi essere 

Mai, Si che alcun non t'habbia a dire il simile. 

C. Vedi s 'in casa e Dulippo di gratia. 

P. Cosi non ci fusse egli. C. dhe domandalo 

Un poco da mia parte, c 'ho grandissimo 

Bisogno di parlargli. P. habbi patientia 

Ch'egli e impacciato. C. volto mio bello, anima 

Mia cara, fagli limbasciata. P. dicoti 

Che glie impacciato. C. e tu impazzata, femina 

Poltrona. P. deh capestro. C. o indiscreta asina. 

P. O ribaldel che ti nasca la fistola 

Che tu sarai impiccato. C. e tu malefica 

Stregha sarai bruciata. se gia il cancaro 



iPotr0 121 

Pria nonti mangia. gran fatto sarebbeti 
A dirgli una parola. P. se t' approssimi 
lo ti daro una bastonata. C. Guardati, 
Vecchia, imbriaca, che s'io piglio un ciottolo 
Non ti spezzi questo capo di scimia. 
P. Hor sia in malhora : credo tu sia il diavolo 
Che me viene a tentar. E. Crapin non odi tu 
Ritorna a me. che stai cosi a contendere ? &c. 

64* 14- Ancona. Ariosto mentions Loreto before Ancona, 
but some of the texts are corrupt at this point, and Gascoigne may 
have omitted it for this reason. 

64, 27. fardings. Gascoigne here sacrificed the sense to 
alliteration. P, robba da datio. V. Mercancie, o robe che pagasson 
datio. 

64, 28-30. Sure . . . knaves still. A mistranslation of 
V. Ho inteso che cotesti fanno pessime | Cose e che i Marcadanti 
vi assassinano. — Evidently it is the excisemen, not the merchants, 
who do the ** bobbing." 

65? 34- pleasant. P and V. accrescimento di letitia. 

66, 75. womanlike. P and V. feminile. 

67, 90. enough . . . feast. V. riprensibile | E ogni cosa 
troppo. Gascoigne' s fondness for proverbs has been already noted. 

67* 97-98. your grandefathers soule. P. tua madre. 

V. v'havesse dato I'essere. The verse edition of 1562 (Venice) 
puts this and the next line into the following scene. That of 15 51 
has the same arrangement as Gascoigne has adopted : so have ap- 
parently all the prose editions. 

68, 27. three houres. P. piu de quattro hore. V. due hore 
o piu. 

68, 28. at the Aungell. P. all hosteria dela Corona. V. 
al Angelo. 

69,34-36. I am matched . . . another while. — G. 

72, 45. this good fawchion. Pand V. questo schidone 
— this spit. 

72,46. if my maister . . . burst. A free translation of P 
(V is slightly different) : guai a te se Erostrato qui se trovava, 
torna in casa signore, e lascia gracchiare questo uccellaccio nella 
strada tan to che si crepi. 



122 ipotesf 

72, 2-5. Sir, I like it . . . accordingly. Gascoigne 
has failed here to reproduce the force of the original which puns on 
Ferrara zn^ferro (iron) — gli effetti secondo il nome escono (V). 

72, 9. Well . . . both. P and V. Tutti n' avete colpa. 

72, II. officers, p. officiali. V. Rettori. 

73, 27-28. either at the schooles . . . find him. 
P. andaremo ale schole prima, se non e quivi, lo trovaremo alia 
piazza. V. o al escuole il trovaremo ? o al circolo | In vescovato. 
This last expression puzzles the Italian commentators. Barotti sug- 
gests that the doctoral exercises were held in the bishop's palace. 
Gascoigne probably fell back on his general knowledge of English 
university life. 

74, Scena vii. This scene appears to be taken entirely 
from V. 

76, 62. cackabed. This coarse expression is added by Gas- 
coigne. P. vecchio rabbioso. V. vecchio farnetico. 

76. Scena viii. The opening speech of this scene is loosely 
translated. 

79, 60. coram judice. In the presence of the judge. 

80, 98-99. Well sayd . . . lookes. The earlier part of this 
scene seems to be taken from P, but this speech is evidently from V: 

anchio pochissima 
Fede ho in questi che torto il capo portano ; 
E con parole mansuete, et humili 
Si van coprendo fin che te 1' attacano. 

P has simply : questi che portano el colo torto. 

84, 51-52. he was taken . . . Polynesta. P. estato 

ritrovato, che si giagea con Polymnesta tua. 

85, 58-59. I thinke . . . sweete meates. P. faranno 

de peccati lor durissima penitentia. 

85, 62-63. I make thee . . . supper. — G. 

85, 64-67. By the masse . . . devise. V. Se voi certo 

m' havete fatto judice | De savii non mi havrestedato ufficio | 
Che fosse piu di questo a mio proposito. — Judice de savii, head of 
the city magistrates. 

85, 6. bounce . . . hevy heart. The alliteration here 
and all through this speech is Gascoigne' s. 

87, 52. as it were at an owle. — G. 



jl^otesf 123 

88, 7-8. the shoulder of mutton and the capon. P. 

li Tordi, con la lonza. 

88, 21. and caphers. — G. 

88-89, ^7-35- Since I told him ... of a new fash- 
ion. Loose translation of V : 

Poi ch' io gli ho detto che Dulippo e in carcere 
Tutto e tomato bizzaro e fantastico. 
Tanto martello ha che creppa. ma habbilo 
Quanto si vuole. il cuor gli crepi, e 1 anima 
Pur ch' io ceni con lui, c' ho da curarmene? 
Ma non e questo che viene in qua dominus 
Cleandrus ? bene veniat. noi porremoli 
II cimier de le corna omnino in capite. 

The Italian commentators explain martello as meaning *'rabbia, 
ira. " Gascoigne has translated it literally. Cimier is the crest of a 
helmet : Gascoigne has turned this into a reference to the doctor's 
cap, at some loss of the force of the allusion to " horns." 

90, 14-15. and if you finde . . . death for it. — G. 

90, '2.(i—'2.']. I knowe . . . servaunt. P (V is almost the 
same) : Ch' io sia ghiotto ti confesso, ma ribaldo no, hai torto dirme 
cosi che servitor ti sono — It will be seen that Gascoigne has missed 
the force of Pasiphilo's distinction : he admits that he is a glutton, 
but not that he is a rascal. 

90, 33. I, praesequar . . . elder. This is Gascoigne's 
addition. P. Ah Cleandro pianamente. V. sempre ve ho hauto 
in reverentia. Gascoigne has dealt very freely with this quarrel 
scene, taking something now from P, now from V, and adding a 
little of his own. 

91* 5^-59- call me cut. P. mutami nome. 

92, 88. Alas . . . S. Anne. P. Me ne duole. 

92, 92. a good barke. P. tre buone armate Galee. V. tre 
Galee. 

92, 94. from thence. P. dalla presa citta . . . verso Velona 
se ritornava. 

93, 101-02. I thinke not past five yeeres old. P. all- 
hora fanciuUo de cinque sei anni. V. al mio credere, j Non dovea 
anchora alii cinque anni giungere. 



124 J^otesf 

93, 115. Beware . . . lavish. P. Noi stiamo freschi, 
aspetta pure. V. Stiam freschi. 

93> 1 15-16. lavish, was. Between 1. 115 andl. 116 V in- 
terposes : Ph. non ci interrompere | Temerario. P and G omit. 

95, 161. What hee goeth about ? P and V. che gli va 

a tentone ? 

95, 174. eighteen yeares since. P. diceotto anni. V. 

venti. All this is from P. V does not mention Spiagia. 

95) 177-79- He hath ... in it. P. Che maraviglia 
se te la detto, che tu lo sappi, el neo ce ha pur troppo, cosi ce 
havessi egli. V. II segno v' ha, v' havess' egli | Cosi. Gascoigne 
has added a touch of coarseness of his own. 

97, 15. to the weavers. P. a casa de mona Bionda (V. 
Beritola) . 

99. Scena septima. The previous scene (vi) seems to be 
taken from P : the arrangement of the dialogue at the beginning 
of this is obviously from V. 

100,47. Cleander? what to doe? This interjection by 
Damon is only in P. (Come Cleandro. ) 

101. Scena viii. This scene is a very loose translation, 
or rather summary of V ; two short speeches, found in P and 
not in V, are omitted, and the speeches found in both P and V 
are shortened. " I shall have good game here after to tel this 
pleasant story another day in mine owne countrey ' ' rests upon 
what Cleander says in V. The first half of the scene bears only a 
distant resemblance to the original. 

102, 24. Carino. Cleander' s newfound son is evidently pre- 
sent, although his name is not mentioned in the stage-direction and 
he takes no part in the dialogue. The stage-direction at the end of 
the scene is, as in other cases, added by Gascoigne : in the original, 
the Scenese and Carino apparently withdrew. 

102. Scena ix. This scene is also freely rendered from V, 
with some slight omissions. In P there is no division between this 
scene and the next, Cleander' s speech running right on with the 
connecting link. *' Lascerni parlare a me prima." 

103. Polinesta. [Later] Nevola and other Ser- 
vants. These names are not given in V, or in P at the head of 
ix. It is evident, however, fi-om the text that Polinesta is pre- 



iliotesf 125 

sent, for in both Damon's speech ends : E questa h la nuora tua. 
(V. vostra Nuora.) 

104, 20-21. I prefer my whole lands in dower to 

your daughter. This is not found in the original. 

105, 52-56. But why . . . goe in, sir. This is from V; 
P gives a slightly different arrangement of the text, Damon mak- 
ing the suggestion " Andiamo in casa," and Pasiphilo falling in 
with it : " E ben detto, in casa, in casa." Both P and V make a 
new scene here, consisting of the last half-dozen lines. Both give 
the final speech, not to Damon, but to Pasiphilo. 

105, 61-64. Marie . . . the sample. P. Chiavateli in 
culo. V. che quanto h lungo il manico | Tu te li chiavi, ben m' 
intendi Nevola. 

106, 69. Et plauserunt. — G. The prose versions put 
<' Valete," V simply '< 11 fine." 



THE TEXT 

In addition to the quarto variants, all the MS. readings of 
Joca%ta are here printed for the first time. This "interesting dra- 
matic relic" appears to date back to 1568, and was the property 
of Roger, second baron North, whose autograph may be seen on 
the title, here reproduced in facsimile ; it afterwards passed into the 
hands of the Earls of Guilford, then into the library of the late 
Thomas Corser, and finally into the MSS. Department of the Brit- 
ish Museum. For the text of the Italian original, that published 
in 1809 by the Societa Tipografica de' Classici Italiani has been 
adopted, with such slight changes as were necessary to make it a 
faithful reprint of the first Aldine edition of 1 549, in octavo (O) 
— the one the English translators seem to have used. Thus, in 11, 
i, 388, where the edition of 1549 reads egualita and that of 1560 
in duodecimo (D) equita, the English translation reads Equalitie. 
Line 116 of iv, i, which is omitted from O, is also omitted from 
the English translation. 



^m/A 



n^Ai! -^3 




"^0^^ 



? 






GIOCASTA 



T R A G E D I A 



D I 



M. LODOVICO DOLCE. 



JOCASTA: 

A Tragedie written in 

Greeke by Euripides^ translated 

and digested into Acte by George Gas- 

coygne and Francis Kinwelmershe 

of Grayes Inne, 

and there by them presented, 

1566. 

8 1^66. 23> An. 1566. 



The Argument of the Tragedie. 

To scourge the cryme of wicked La'ius^ 

And wrecke the foule incest of Oedipus^ 

The angry Gods styrred up theyr sonnes^ by strife 

With blades embrewed to reave eache others life : 

The wife^ the mother^ and the concubyne^ 5 

(Ji^hose fearefull hart foredrad theyr fatall fine ^ 

Hir sonnes thus dead^ disdayneth longer lyfe^ 

And slayes hir self with selfsame bloudy knyfe : 

The daughter she^ surprisde with childish dreade 

(That durst not dye^ a loth some lyfe doth leade^ lo 

Tet rather chose to guide hir banisht sire^ 

Than cruell Creon should have his desire. 

Creon is King^ the ^type of Tyranny y * Fygure. 

And Oedipus^ myrrour of misery. 

Fortunatus Infcelix. 



3 theyr. MS., his. 4 blade$. MS., blade. 

5 The . . . the . . . the. MS., his ... his .. . his. 

13 is King, the. MS., the king ys. 

* Fygure. MS. and Qi omit this and all subsequent side-notes. 

15 Fortunatus Infoelix. MS. omits. 



PERSONE BELLA TRAGEBIA. 

Servo. 

GlOCASTA. 

Bailo. 

Antigone. 

CoRO di Donne Tebane. 

polinice. 

Eteocle. 

Creonte. 

Meneceo. 

TiRESIA. 

Manto. 

Sacerdote. 

Nuncio. 

Un altro Nuncio. 

Edipo. 

La favola e rappresentata in Tebe. 
Giocasta fa 11 prologo. 



Giocasta . . . prologo. D omits. 



The names of the Interloquutors. 

JocASTA, the Queene. 
Servus, a noble man of the Queenes traine. 
Bailo, governour to the Queenes sonnes. 
Antygone, daughter to the Queene. 
Chorus, foure Thebane dames. 

POLLYNICES & 1 ^ „ o . /^ 

p. V sonnes to Oedipus & the Queene. 

Creon, the Queenes brother. 
Meneceus, Sonne to Creon. 
Tyresias, the divine priest. 
Manto, the daughter of Tyresias. 
Sacerdos, the sacrifycing priest. 
NuNTii, three messangers from the campe. 

Oedipus, the olde king, father to Eteocles and Pollynices, Sonne 
and husbande to Jocasta the Queene. 

The Tragedie presented as it were 
in Thebes. 



16^17 The . . . Thebes . MS. and Qi, The tragedie represented 
in Thebes. 



^ The order of the dumme 
shewes 

and Musickes before every Acte. 

Firste, before the beginning of the first Acte, 
did sounde a dolefull and straunge noyse of viol- 
les, cythren, bandurion, and such like, during 
the whiche there came in uppon the stage a 
king with an imperial crown uppon his head, 
very richeley apparelled : a scepter in his righte 
hande, a mounde with a crosse in his lefte hande, 
sitting in a chariote very richely furnished, drawne 
in by foure kinges in their dublettes and hosen, 
with crownes also upon their heades, represent- 
ing unto us ambition, by the hystorie of Sesos- 
tres, king of Egypt, who beeing in his time and 
reigne a mightie conquerour, yet not content 
to have subdued many princes, and taken from 
them their kingdomes and dominions, did in like 
maner cause those kinges whome he had so over- 
come, to draw in his chariote like beastes and 
oxen, thereby to content his unbrideled ambi- 

6 righte. MS. omits. 



W\it orDer of tl)e Dumme 0lietDe0 135 

tious desire. After he had beene drawne twyce 
about the stage, and retyred, the muslcke ceased, 20 
and Jocasta the Queene issued out of hir house, 
beginning the firste Acte, as followeth. Jocasta 
the Queene issueth out of hir pallace, before hir 
twelve Gentlemen, following after hir eight 
Gentlewomen, whereof foure be the Chorus that 25 
remayne on the stage after hir departure. At hir 
entrance the trumpettes sounded, and after she 
had gone once about the stage, she turneth to 
one of hir most trustie and esteemed servaunts, 
and unto him she discloseth hir griefe, as fol- 3° 
oweth. 

24 Gentlemen. MS. and Ql add, very bra-vely appareled. 



(Kiocajsta 



Atto Primo. 

[SCENA I.] 

Giocastay Servo. 

Giocasta. Caro gia del mio padre antico servo, 
Benche nota ti sia V istoria a pieno 
De' miei gravi dolor, de' miei martirij 
Pur, dalP alto e real stato di prima 
Veggendomi condotta a tal bassezza, 5 

Che '1 mio proprio figliuol sdegna ascoltarmi, 
Ne tengo di Reina altro, che '1 nome, 
E veggo la cittade, e '1 sangue mio 
L* arme pigliar contro '1 suo stesso sangue; 
Perche si sfoga ragionando il core; 10 

lo ti vo' raccontar quel ch' e palese : 
Perocch' io so che delle pene mie 
Pieta sovente a lagrimar ti move, 
E, pill che i figli miei, ne senti affanno. 



giDcajSta 

The first Jcte. The first Scene, 
\_Before the Palace of Jocasta."^ 

Jocasta^ Servus, 

\^ocasta^ O faithfull servaunt of mine aun- 
cient sire, 
Though unto thee sufficiently be knowne 
The whole discourse of my recurelesse griefe 
By seing me from princes royall state 
Thus basely brought into so great contempt 
As mine own sonnes repine to heare my plaint, 
Now of a queene but barely bearing name, 
Seying this towne, seing my fieshe and bloude. 
Against it selfe to levie threatning armes, 
(Whereof to talke my heart it rendes in twaine) 
Yet once againe I must to thee recompte 
The wailefull thing that is already spred, 
Bicause I know that pitie will compell 
Thy tender hart more than my naturall childe 

Before the Palace. The scene remains unchanged throughout 
the play. 



138 ^iOCaSfta [Act I 

Servo. Reina, come me non vinse alcuno 15 

In servir fedelmente il mio Signore; 
Cosi i' credo che alcuno in amar voi 
De' figli vostri non mi passa avanti. 
Questo conviensi agli obblighi ch' io tengo 
Non meno a voi, ch' io gia tenessi a lui: 20 

Che, se gli obblighi miei sono infiniti, 
Infinito esser deve anco 1' amore: 
E, se piacesse ai Dii che questa vita 
Spender potessi a beneficio vostro, 
Non rifiutate voi di adoperarla, 25 

Acciocche in questa mia gia stanca etade 
Lieto e contento all' altra vita io passi 
Di non avermi in alcun tempo mostro 
A si degni Signori ingrato servo. 

Gio. Tu sai quanta vaghezza ebbe mio padre 30 
Di legarmi con nodo di mogliera 
A Laio Re dell' infelice Tebe; 
Ch' infelice ben e la citta nostra: 
E sai siccome il mio novello sposo, 
Bramoso di saper quel ch' era occulto, 35 



Scene I.] 3l0CaSfta 139 

With ruthfull teares to mone my mourning 

case. 15 

Servus. My gracious Queene, as no man 

might surmount 
The constant faith I beare my sovraine lorde, 
So doe I thinke, for love and trustie zeale, 
No Sonne you have doth owe you more than I : 
For hereunto I am by dutie bounde 20 

With service meete no lesse to honor you 
Than that renoumed prince your deere father. 
And as my duties be most infinite, 
So infinite must also be my love : 
Then, if my life or spending of my bloude *s 

May be employde to doe your highnesse good, 
Commaunde (O Queene), commaund this car- 

casse here, 
In spite of death, to satisfie thy will ; 
So, though I die, yet shall my willing ghost 
Contentedly forsake this withered corps 30 

For joy to thinke I never shewde my selfe 
Ingrateful once to such a worthy queene. 

Joe, Thou knowst what care my carefull 

father tooke 
In wedlockes sacred state to settle me 
With Laius, king of this unhappie Thebs 35 

That most unhappie now our Citie is : 
Thou knowst how he, desirous still to searche 
The hidden secrets of supernall powers. 



140 (Siocafifta [act i. 

Ricorse agli Indovini, e intender volse, 

Quando di me nascesse alcun figliuolo, 

Qual di lui fosse la futura sorte. 

Onde, avendo risposta amara et aspra, 

Che dal proprio figliuol sarebbe ucciso, 40 

Cerco il misero Re (ma cerco invano) 

Di fuggir quel che non potea fuggirsi. 

Quinci, sbandita ogni pieta natia, 

Poiche '1 peso meschin di questo ventre 

Nella luce mortal aperse gli occhi, 45 

Commise a un servo suo piu d' altri fido 

Che lo portasse entro una selva oscura, 

E lasciasse il figliuol cibo alle Fere. 

Ser. Infelice bambin, nato in mal punto, 

Gio. II servo, insieme obbediente, e pio, 50 

Quel pargoletto a un' arbore sospese 

Per li teneri piedi alto da terra, 

Con acuto coltel forando quelli; 

Indi per dentro alle ferite d' ambi 

Di vimini ponendo intorno avvolti 55 

Al picciol peso assai forte sostegno, 

Cosi lascio '1 fanciullo appena nato ; 

II qual morir dovea fra poco d' ora, 

Se '1 fato, che per mal di tutti noi 



Scene 1.1 31OCa0ta I4I 

Unto divines did make his ofte recourse, 
Of them to learne when he should have a sonne 40 
That in his realme might after him succeede : 
Of whom receiving answere sharpe and sowre, 
That his owne sonne should worke his wailfuU 

ende, 
The wretched king (though all in vayne) did 

seeke 
For to eschew that could not be eschewed : 45 

And so, forgetting lawes of natures love. 
No sooner had this paynfull wombe brought 

foorth 
His eldest sonne to this desired light. 
But straight he charged a trustie man of his 
To beare the childe into a desert wood, 50 

And leave it there for tigers to devoure. 

Ser. O lucklesse babe, begot in wofull houre ! 
yoc. His servant, thus obedient to his best. 
Up by the heeles did hang this faultlesse impe, 
And percing with a knife his tender feete, 55 

Through both the wounds did drawe the slender 

twigs 
Which, being bound about his feeble limmes. 
Were strong inough to holde the little soule. 
Thus did he leave this infant scarcely borne. 
That in short time must needes have lost his 

life, 60 

If destenie (that for our greater greefes 



142 ^ioca^ta [act i. 

Avea disposto conservarlo in vita, 60 

Non mandava al meschin presto soccorso. 

Questo fu, ch' un pastor, quindi passando, 

Pietosamente lo campo da morte, 

Recollo al tetto, e alia sua moglie il diede. 

Or odi com' il Ciel la strada aperse 65 

Alia morte di Laio, e alle mie pene. 

Ser. Ben s' e veduto, e si dimostra ogn' ora 
Che contra '1 Cielo e in darno umana forza. 

Gio. Era a que' di la moglie di Polibo, 
Re di Corinto, in grave afFanno involta, 70 

Perocche non potea ricever prole. 
II cortese pastor le fece dono 
Del mio figliuol, ch' a lei fu caro moltoj 
Parte per esser ben formato e bello 
Parte, che '1 giudico di Re figliuolo. 75 

Crebbe il fanciullo, e fu creduto figlio 
Di Polibo molt' anni, in fin ch' Edipo 
(Che tale al mio figliuol fu posto nome) 



Scene I.] 3IOCa0ta 143 

Decreede before to keep it stille alive) 
Had not unto this childe sent present helpe : 
For so it chaunst, a shepheard passing by, 
With pitie movde, did stay his giltlesse death : 65 
He tooke him home, and gave him to his wife, 
With homelie fare to feede and foster up : 
Now barken how the heavens have wrought 

the way 
To Laius death and to mine owne decay. 

Ser. " Experience proves, and daily is it 

seene, 70 

In vaine (too vaine) man strives against the 

heavens." 
yoc. Not farre fro thence, the mightie Po- 

libus. 
Of Corinth king, did keepe his princely court, 
Unto whose wofull wife (lamenting muche 
Shee had no ofspring by hir noble pheere) 75 

The curteous shepherd gave my little sonne : 
Which gratefull gift the Queene did so accept 
As nothing seemde more precious in hir sight : 
Partly, for that its faitures were so fine, 
Partly, for that he was so beautifull, 80 

And partly, for bicause his comely grace 
Gave great suspicion of his royall bloude. 
The infant grewe, and many yeares was demde 
Polibus sonne, till time that Oedipus 
(For so he named was) did understande 8^ 



144 ^iocafi?ta [act i. 

Intese che quel Re non gli era padre j 

Onde lascio Corinto, e '1 pie rivolse 80 

A ricercar della sua stirpe indizio. 

Ma pervenuto in Focide, ebbe avviso 

Dair Oracol divin noioso e tristo; 

Che troverebbe, e ucciderebbe il padre, 

E diverria della sua madre sposo. 85 

Ser, Ben fu crudo pianeta, e fera Stella 
Che destino questo peccato orrendo. 

Gio. Dunque cerco, pien di spavento, Edipo 
Di schifar quel che disponea la sorte : 
Ma, mentre che fuggir cercava il male ; 90 ^ 

Condotto dair iniqua sua ventura, 
Venne in quel che fuggiva ad incontrarsi. 
Era in Focide Laio, e terminava 
Di discordia civil nuove contese 
Nate tra quella gente : onde il mio figlio, 95 

Prestando aita alia contraria parte, 
Uccise, incauto, V infelice padre: 
Cosi i celesti Nuncii, e parimente 
Le profetiche voci ebbero efFetto. 
Sol rimaneva ad adempir la sorte i 

Delia misera madre : Oime, ch io sento 



Scene I.] 3OCa0ta 145 

That Polibus was not his sire in deede, 
Whereby, forsaking frendes and countrie there, 
He did returne to seeke his native stocke : 
And, being come into Phocides lande, 
Toke notice of the cursed oracle, 9° 

How first he shoulde his father doe to death, 
And then become his mothers wedded mate. 
Ser. O fierce aspect of cruell planets all. 
That can decree such seas of heynous faultes. 
Joe. Then Oedipus, fraight full of chilling 

feare, 95 

By ail meanes sought t* avoyde this furious fate ; 
But whiles he weende to shunne the shameful 

deede, 
Unluckly guided by his owne mishappe. 
He fell into the snare that most he feared. 
For loe, in Phocides did Laius lye, loo 

To ende the broyles that civill discorde then 
Had raysed up in that unquiet lande. 
By meanes whereof my wofull Oedipus, 
Affording ayde unto the other side. 
With murdring blade unwares his father slewe. 105 
Thus heavenly doome, thus fate, thus powers 

divine. 
Thus wicked reade of prophets, tooke efi^ect : 
Now onely restes to ende the bitter happe 
Of me — of me, his miserable mother. 

89 Phocides. Hazlitt, Phocian. 95 fraight. Q3, fraught. 



146 ^ioca^ta [acti. 

Tutto dentro del cor gelarsi il sangue. 

Edipo, fatto 1' omicidio strano, 

Spinto dal suo destin, sen venne in Tebe ; 

Dove con molta gloria in un momento 105 

Fu incoronato Re dal popol tutto 

Per la vittoria che del Mostro ottenne, 

Che distrugger solea questo paese. 

Cos' io (chi udi giammai piu orribil cosa ?) 

Del mio proprio figliuol divenni moglie. no 

Ser. Non so perche non s' ascondesse il Sole, 
Per non veder si abbominoso efFetto. 

Gio. Cosi di quel che del mio ventre nacque 
Io n' ebbi (oime infelice) due figliuoli, 
Et altrettante figlie. Ma dappoi 115 

Che si scoprir le scellerate nozze ; 
Allor, pien d' ira, e addolorato Edipo, 
Con le sue proprie man si trasse gli occhi, 
In se crudel, per non veder piu luce. 

Ser. Com' esser puo che, avendo conosciuto 12? 
Si gran peccato, egli restasse in vita ? 



Scene I.] ^OtUSitdi I47 

Alas, how colde I feele the quaking bloud no 

Passe too and fro within my trembling brest : 
Oedipus, when this bloudy deede was done, 
Forst foorth by fatall doome, to Thebes came, 
Where as full soone with glory he atchievde 
The crowne and scepter of this noble lande 115 
By conquering Sphinx, that cruell monster, loe ! 
That earst destroyde this goodly flouring soyle : 
And thus did I (O hatefull thing to heare) 
To my owne sonne become a wretched wife. 

Ser. No mervayle, though the golden sunne 

withdrew j^o 

His glittering beames from suche a sinfull facte. 

Joe. And so by him that from this belly 
sprang, 
I brought to light (O cursed that I am !) 
Aswell two sonnes as daughters also twaine : 
But when this monstrous manage was discIosde,i25 
So fore began the rage of boyling wrath 
To swell within the furious brest of him. 
As he him selfe, by stresse of his owne nayles. 
Out of his head did teare his griefull eyne. 
Unworthy more to see the shining light. 

Ser. How could it be that, knowing he had 
done 
So foule a blot, he would remayne alive ? 

117 f curing. Q3, flourishing. 118 /. Q 3 omits. 

128 ^s. MS., That. 



148 ^iocasfta [act i. 

Gio. Non pecca 1' uom che, non sapendo, in- 
corre 
In alcun mal, da cui fuggir non puote : 
Et egli a maggior suo danno e cordoglio, 
Et a pena maggior la vita serba : i»5 

Ch' a' miseri la vita apporta noia, 
E morte e fin delle miserie umane. 

Ser. Misera ben sovra ogni donna sete; 
Tante son le cagion de' vostri mali. 

Gio. Ecco perche del mal concetto seme 130 
Non si sentisse il miser cieco allegro : 
I due figliuol, da crudelta sospinti, 
A perpetua prigion dannaro il padre : 
La 've, in oscure tenebre sepolto, 
Vive dolente e disperata vita, 135 

Sempre maledicendo ambi i figliuoli, 
E pregando le furie empie d* Inferno 
Che spirin tal velen nei petti loro, 
Che questo e quel contro se stesso s* armi ; 



Scene I.] iflOCaSta 149 

Joe. " So deepely faulteth none, the which 

unwares 
Doth fall into the crime he can not shunne : " 
And he (alas !) unto his greater greefe 135 

Prolongs the date of his accursed dayes, 
Knowing that life doth more and more increase 
The cruel plages of his detested gilte, 
" Where stroke of griefly death dothe set an 

ende 
Unto the pangs of mans increasing payne." 14° 
Ser. Of others all, moste cause have we to 

mone 
Thy wofull smarte (O miserable Queene), 
Such and so many are thy greevous harmes. 
^oc. Now to the ende this blinde outrageous 

fire 
Should reape no joye of his unnatural! fruite, 145 
His wretched sons, prickt foorth \^ ^"rious 

spight. 
Adjudge their father to perpetuall prison : 
There, buried in the depthe of dungeon darke, 
Alas ! he leades his discontented life, 
Accursing still his stony harted sonnes, 150 

And wishing all th'infernall sprites of hell 
To breathe suche poysned hate into their brestes 
As eche with other fall to bloudy warres, 
And so with pricking poynt of piercing blade 

144 outrageous, MS., outraging. 



150 ^ioca0ta [Acti. 

E s' aprano le vene, e del lor sangue 140 

Tingano insieme le fraterne mani 
Tanto, che morto 1' un e 1' altro cada, 
E ne vadano a un tempo ai Regni stigi. 

Ser. Questo, per ben di voi lo tolga Dio. 

Gio. Ond' essi, per fuggir V empie biasteme, 145 
E i fieri voti dell' irato padre, 
Insieme convenir che per un anno 
Eteocle, il maggior fratello, in Tebe 
Tenesse il seggio e la real corona, 
E in esilio n' andasse Polinice ; 150 

II qual finite, a Polinice poi 
Eteocle cedesse il manto ; e sempre 
L' un succedendo alF altro, in cotal guisa 
II Dominio servisse ad ambidoi. 

Ser. Ahi, che 1' ambizion non puo frenarsi. 155 

Gio. Poiche Eteocle fu nel seggio posto, 
Ebbrio della dolcezza, e del diletto 
Di regnar solo, il suo fratello escluse 
Dallo scettro non pur debito a lui. 
Ma dal natio terren. Che far dovea 160 

Dunque il mio figlio dal fratel tradito ? 
Egli, dolente, si condusse in Argo j 



Scene I.] 3|0CaS?ta I51 

To rippe their bowels out, that eche of them 155 
With others bloud might strayne his giltie hands. 
And bothe at once, by stroke of speedie death. 
Be foorthwith throwne into the Stigian lake. 

Ser, The mightie Gods prevent so fowle a 
deede ! 

Joe, They, to avoyde the wicked blasphemies 160 
And sinfull prayer of their angrie sire. 
Agreed thus : that of this noble realme, 
Untill the course of one ful yere was runne, 
Eteocles should sway the kingly mace, 
And Polynice as exul should departe, 165 

Till time expyrde : and then to Polynice 
Eteocles should yeelde the scepter up : 
Thus yere by yere the one succeeding other. 
This royall crowne should unto bothe remayne. 

Ser. Oh, thunbridled mindes of ambicious 
men ! 170 

yoc. Et[e]ocles, thus plast in princely seate, 
Drunke with the sugred taste of kingly raigne. 
Not onely shut his brother from the crowne. 
But also from his native country soyle. 
Alas, poore Polynice ! what might he doe, 175 

Unjustly by his brother thus betrayed ? 
To Argos he with sad and heavie cheere 
Forthwith convayde him selfe,on whom at length 

156 strayne. MS., stain. Qi, stayne. 
171 Eteocles. MS. and Q2, Etocles. 



152 ^iocas?ta [acti. 

Dove tanto gli arrise la fortuna, 

Ch' ivi amicizia, e affinita contrasse 

Col Re d' Argivi, il qual si chiama Adrasto ; 165 

Che, per ripor il genero nel Regno, 

Ha posto assedio alia citta di Tebe. 

Quinci e 1' estremo mal dei miei gran mali : 

Che vinca qual si vuol de' miei figliuoli. 

La vittoria a me fia d' angoscia e pianto : 170 

E temo, oime, come in tai guerre accade, 

Che d' uno, o d* ambidoi la morte segua. 

Onde, perche non intervenga questo, 

Come pietosa e sconsolata madre, 

Che non puo non amar sempre i figliuoli, 175 

E procurar di quel 1' utile e '1 bene j 

Ho fatto si con le preghiere mie, 

Ch' oggi, che si dovea dar la battaglia 

Alia cittade, o che le genti nostre 

Uscissero di fuori alia campagna, 180 

Tanto di tregua conceduto m' hanno 

I due fratelli, anzi nimici fieri, 

Ch' io tenti, pria che tra lor movan 1' armi, 

S' acquetar posso le discordie loro, 

Assegnandomi a questo un' ora sola. 185 

Ser. Picciolo spazio a cosi gran disegno. 

Gio. E poco fa ch' un mio fidato amico 
E tomato di campo, et hammi detto 



Scene L] jHOCa^ta 153 

With fauning face good fortune smyled so, 

As with Adrastus, king of Argives there, i8o 

He founde such favour and affinitie 

As (to restore my sonne unto his raigne) 

He hath besiedge this noble citie Thebes, 

And hence proceedes my most extreme annoye : 

For, of my sonnes who ever doe prevaile, 185 

The victorie will turne unto my griefe. 

Alas ! I feare (such is the chaunce of warre) 

That one or both shall purchase death therby. 

Wherfore to shunne the worst that may befall, 

Though comfortlesse, yet as a pitifull mother 190 

Whom nature binds to love hir loving sonnes. 

And to provide the best for their availe, 

I have thought good by prayers to entreate 

The two brethren, nay rather cruel foes, 

A while to stale their fierce and furious fight, 195 

Till I have tried by meanes for to apease 

The swelling wrath of their outraging willes ; 

And so with much to doe at my request 

They have forborne unto this onely houre. 

Ser. Small space, [God] wot, to stint so 
great a strife. 200 

Joe. And even right now a trustie man of 
mine 
Returned from the campe, enforming me 

183 besiedge. MS)., hc^ecAg^Q. Qi, besedge. Q3, besiegde. 
zoo God ivot. MS., Qi, Q3, god wot. Q2, good wot. 



154 



^toca^ta 



[Act I. 



90 



95 



Che sara tosto in Tebe Polinice. 

Or delle pene mie la istoria e questa. 

E perche in vane e inutili querele 

Non fa bisogno ch' io consumi il tempo ; 

Faro qui fine alle parole, poi 

Che '1 mio misero cuor no '1 fa alia doglia. 

E ti prego che vadi ad Eteocle, 

E lui da parte mia supplica e prega 

Ch' ora, per attenermi alia promessa, 

Se ne venga al palazzo. Io so ch' ei t' ama 

Piu ch' uom di Tebe, e a tue parole porge 

(II che t' e noto) volentieri orecchia. 200 

Ser. Rein^5 poich' a tal officio vuole 
Prestezza ; canto il vostro ben m' e caro 
Io mi serbo ^ mostrar piii con 1' effetto, 
Che mostrar non saprei con le parole. 

Gio. Io ritorno di dentro ; e in questo mezzo 205 
Preghero il sommo Dio ch' ei mi consoli 
Per sua pieta; ch' io misera no '1 merto. 



Scene I.] 3IOCa0ta 155 

That Polynice will straight to Thebes come ; 
Thus of my woe this is the wailefull summe. 
And for bycause in vaine and bootelesse plainte205 
I have small neede to spend this litle time, 
Here will I cease in words more to bewray 
The restlesse state of my afflicted minde, 
Desiring thee thou goe to Eteocles, 
Hartly on my behalf beseching him 210 

That out of hand, according to his promise. 
He will vouchsafe to come unto my courte : 
I know he loves thee well, and to thy wordes 
I thinke thou knowst he will give willing eare. 

Ser. O noble Queene, slth unto oUch affayres2i5 
My spedie diligence is requisite, 
I will applie effectually to doe 
What so your highnesse hath commaunded me. 

Joe. I will goe in, and pray the gods ther- 
while 
With tender pitie to appease my griefe. 220 

Jocasta goeth off the stage into hir pallace^ 
hir foure handmaides follow hir ^ the four e 
Chorus also follow hir to the gates of hir 
pallace. After ^ comming on the stage y take 
their place, where they continue to the 
end of the tragedie. 



156 ^iOta0ta [Act I. 



[SCENA 2.] 

Servo. Color che i seggi e le reali altezze 
Ammiran tanto veggono con 1' occhio 
L' adombrato splendor ch' appar di fuori, 
Scettri, gemme, corone, aurati pannij 
Ma non veggon dappoi con V intelletto 
Le penose fatiche, e i gravi afFanni, 
Le cure, e le molestie, a mille a mille, 
Che di dentro celate e ascose stanno. 



Scene II.] 3|0CaSfta 157 

[SCENA 2.] 

Servus solus. 

\_Servus.'\ " The simple man, whose mervaile 

is so great 
At stately courts and princes regall seate, 
With gasing eye but onely doth regarde 
The golden glosse that outwardly appeares, 
The crownes bedeckt with pearle and precious 

stones, 5 

The riche attire imbost with beaten Thecourte 

golde, lively 

The glittering mace, the pompe of pamted. 

swarming traine, 
The mightie halles heapt full of flattering 

frendes, 
The chambers huge, the goodly gorgeous beddes, 
The gilted roofes embowde with curious worke, lo 
The faces sweete of fine disdayning dames. 
The vaine suppose of wanton raigne at luste — 
But never viewes with eye of inward thought 
The painefuU toile, the great and grevous cares, 
The troubles still, the newe increasing feares 15 
That princes nourish in their jealous brestes : 
He wayeth not the charge that Jove hath laid 

9 chambers huge. MS., Ql, huge chambers. 
II faces siveete. MS., Qi, sweete faces. 
15 The, omitted in Q3. 



158 ^ioca0ta [acti. 

Non san che, come il vento e le saette 

Percuoton sempre le maggiori altezze, 10 

Cosi lo stral della fortuna ingiusta 

Fere piu T uom, quanto piu in alto il trova. 

Ecco: Edipo pur dianzi era Signore 

Di noi Tebani, e di si bel domin[i]o 

Stringea superbo, et allentava il freno, 15 

Et era formidabile a ciascuno : 

Ora, siccome prigioniero afflitto, 

Privo di luce in fiero career chiuso, 

£ giunto a tal, che ha in odio 1' esser vivo. 

Quinci i figliuoli hanno rivolte V armi ^o 

L' un contra 1' altro ; e la citta di Tebe 

£ per cader (se '1 Clel non la sostiene) 

Nel grave assedio ond' e per tutto cinta. 

Ma, nel modo ch' al di la notte segue, 

Alia felicita va dietro il pianto. 25 

14 dominio. O, D, domino. 



Scene II.] 3f|0CaS?ta 159 

On princes, how for themselves they raigne 

not : 
He weenes the law must stoope to princely 

will, 
But princes frame their noble wills to lawe : 20 
He knoweth not that as the boystrous winde 
Doth shake the toppes of highest-reared towres. 
So doth the force of frowarde fortune strike 
The wight that highest sits in haughtie state." 
Lo, Oedipus, that sometime raigned king 25 

Of Thebane soyle, that wonted to sup- 

presse 
The mightest prince, and kepe him under 

checke. 
That fearefull was unto his forraine foes, 
Now like a poore afflicted prisoner. 
In dungeon darke shut up from cheerefull light, 30 
In every part so plagued with annoy 
As he abhorrs to leade a longer life ; 
By meanes wherof, the one against the other. 
His wrathfuU sonnes have planted all their 

force. 
And Thebes here, this auncient worthy towne, 35 
With threatning siege girt in on every side. 
In daunger lyes to be subverted quite. 
If helpe of hevenly Jove upholde it not. 
But as darke night succedes the shining day. 
So lowring griefe comes after pleasant joy. ^o 



i6o ^iotasfta [acti. 

Ora a quel che m' ha imposto la Reina 
AfFretto il pie, che forse mov[o] indarno. 

[SCENA 3.] 

Bailo di Polintcey Antigone figliuola di Giocasta. 

Bailo. Gentil figlia d' Edipo, e pia sorella 
Dell' infelice giovane, sbandito 
Dal suo fratel delle paterne case; 
A cui nei puerili e tener' anni 

Fui (come saper del) bailo e custode ; 5 

Esci, poiche' 1 concede la Reina, 
E fa ch' io sappia la cagion ch' adduce 
Cosi onesta fanciulla a porre il piede 
Fuor de' secreti suoi piu cari alberghi 
Or che per tutto la cittade e piena 10 

Di soldati, e di bellici istrumenti \ 
Ne viene a nostre orecchie altro concento, 

27 mo'vo. O, D, move. 



Scene m.] ^OtU&ta l6l 

Well now the charge hir highnesse did com^ 

maund, 
I must fulfill, though haply all in vaine. 

Servus goeth off the stage by the gates called 
Electrse. Antygoney attended with Hi 
gentlewomen and hir governouTy commeth 
out of the Queene hir mothers pallace. 

[SCENA 3.] 

Bailo^ Antigone. 

\Bailo.'\ O gentle daughter of King Oedipus-, 

sister deare to that unhappie wight 
Whom brothers rage hath reaved of his right, 
To whom, thou knowst, in yong and tender 

yeares 

1 was a friend and faithfull govenour. 

Come forth, sith that hir grace hath graunted 

leave. 
And let me knowe what cause hath moved 

nowe 
So chaste a maide to set hir daintie foote 
Over the thresholde of hir secrete lodge ? 
Since that the towne is furnishte every where 
With men of armes and warlike instrumentes. 
Unto our eares there commes no other noyse, 

Servus . . . pallace. In this and subsequent stage-directions, 
where all the originals read gatesy Hazlitt substitutes gate. 



1 62 €iioca0ta [acti. 

Ch' annitrir di cavalli, e suon di trombe ; 

II qual par che, scorrendo in ogni parte, 

Formi con roche voci sangue e morti. 15 

Non mostra il Sol quel lucido splendore 

Che suol mostrar, quando conduce il giorno ; 

E le misere donne or vanno insieme 

Per la mesta Citta cercando tutti 

I Tempi, e ai Dii porgendo umilemente 20 

Onesti voti, e afFettuosi preghi. 

Ajitigone. L' amor ch' io porto a Polinice e 
solo 
Cagion di questo. 

Bail. Hai tu figliuola, forse 

Riparo alcun contra lo sdegno e 1' ira 
Che giustamente a' nostri danni il move, 15 

Per racquistar, poiche ragion non vale. 
La paterna Citta per forza d' arme ? 

Ant. Deh, Bailo, potess' io col proprio sangue 
Far questo beneficio a' miei fratelli ; 
Ch' io volentier porrei la vita mia 30 

Per la pace e union di questi due. 
Or che far non si puo quel ch' io vorrei, 
Un ardente desio m' infiamma ogn' ora 



Scene m.] 3|0CaS^ta 163 ^ 

But sounde of trumpe and neigh of trampling 

stedes, 
Which, running up and downe from place to 

place, 
With hideous cries betoken bloude and death : 15 
The biasing sunne ne shineth halfe so brighte 
As it was wont to doe at dawne of day : 
The wretched dames throughout the wofull 

towne 
Together clustring to the temples goe, 
Beseching Jove, by way of humble plainte, ao 

With tender ruthe to pitie their distresse. 

Antigone. The love I beare to my sweete 

Polynice, 
My deare brother, is onely cause hereof. 

Bat. Why, daughter, knowst thou any rem- 

edie 
How to defend thy fathers citie here 25 

From that outrage and fierce repyning wrathe 
Which he against it justly hath conceived ? 
An, Oh governour, might this my faultlesse 

bloude 
Suffise to stay my brethrens dyre debate. 
With glad content I coulde afford my life 30 

Betwixte them both to plant a perfect peace. 
But since (alas !) I cannot as I woulde, 
A hote desire enflames my fervent mind 

30 content. MS., Qi, consent. 



1 64 ^iocasta [acti. 

Di veder Polinice : ond' io ti prego 

Che in una delle torri mi conduchi 35 

Donde si veggon le nemiche squadre : 

Che, purch'io pasca alquanto gh occhi miei 

Delia vista del caro mio fratello ; 

S' io ne morro dappoi, morro contenta. 

Bail. Real figliuola, la pieta che serbi 40 

Verso il fratello e d' ogni lode degna : 
Ma brami quel che non si puo ottenere, 
Per la distanza ch' e dalla cittade 
Al piano, ove V esercito e accampato. 
Appresso, non convien ch' una polcella 4.5 

Veder si lassi in luogo, ove fra tanti 
Nuovi soldati, et uomini da guerra 
E il buon costume e 1' onesta sbandita. 
Ma rallegrati pur, che il tuo desio 
Contento fia tra poco spazio d' ora 50 

Senza disturbo alcun, senza fatica : 
Perocche qui fia tosto Polinice j 
Ch' ivi pur dianzi ad invitarlo fui, 
Posciache me '1 commise la Reina ; 
La qual pur tenta di ridur la pace 55 

Fra i due fratei ; che voglia Dio che segua. 



Scene III.] 31OCa0ta 1 65 

To have a sight of my sweete Polynice. 
Wherfore (good guide) vouchsafe to guide me up 35 
Into some tower about this hugie court, 
From whence I may behold our enmies campe, 
Therby at least to feede my hungry eyes 
But with the sight of my beloved brother : 
Then if I die, contented shall I die. 40 

Bai. O princely dame, the tender care thou 
takste 
Of thy deare brother deserveth double praise : 
Yet crav'st thou that which cannot be obtainde, 
By reason of the distance from the towne 
Unto the plaine, where tharmie lies incampte : 45 
And, furthermore, besemeth not a maide 
To shew hir selfe in such unseemly place, 
Whereas among such yong and lustie troupes 
Of harebrainde souldiers, marching to and fro, 
Both honest name and honour is empairde : 50 

But yet rejoyce, sith this thy great desire. 
Without long let, or yet without thy paine. 
At wishe and will shortly may be fulfillde. 
For Polynice forthwith will hither come. 
Even I my selfe was lately at the campe, 55 

Commaunded by the Queene to bid him come. 
Who laboureth still to linke in frendly league 
Hir jarring sonnes (which happe, so hoped for, 
Eftsones I pray the gracious gods to graunt) 

49 harebrainde. MS., herbrayn. 



1 66 ^ioca^ta [acti. 

Jnt. Dunque m' affermi che fia Polinice 
Dentro della Citta ? 

Bail. Tosto il vedrai. 

Jnt, E chi V afEda, oime, chi V assecura 
Che da Eteocle ei non riceva oltraggio ? 60 

Bail. L' assecura la fede che gli ha dato 
II fratello, e la tregua ch' ancor dura. 

Jnt. lo temo, lassa, io temo 
Di qualche rete ascosa 
Che teso gli abbia il suo crudel fratello. 65 

Bail. Fanciulla, io ti vorrei (sasselo Iddio) 
Recar qualche conforto : ma non posso 
Darti quel ben ch' i' non possedo ancora. 
La cagion, ch' Eteocle e Polinice 
Conduce, come intendi, all' odio e all' armi, 70 
E troppo grande : e gia per questa molti 
Hanno senza alcun fren rotte le leggi, 
E sottosopra le Citta rivolte. 
Troppo, figliuola mia, troppo possente 



Scene III.] 3|OCa0ta 1 67 

And sure I am that, ere this houre passe, 60 

Thou shalt him here in person safely see. 

Jnti. O loving frend, doest thou then war- 
rant me 
That Polynice will come unto this court ? 

Bat. Ere thou be ware, thou shalt him here 
beholde. 

Jnti. And who (alas) doth warrant his adven- 
ture, 65 
That of Eteocles he take no harme ? 

Bai. For constant pledge he hath his broth- 
ers faith. 
He hath also the truce that yet endures. 

Jn. I feare, alas, alas, I greatly feare 
Some trustlesse snare his cruell brother layes 70 
To trappe him in. 

Bai. Daughter, God knowes how willing I 
would be 
With sweete reliefe to comforte thy distresse, 
But I cannot impart to thee the good 
Which I my selfe doe not as yet enjoye. 75 

The wailefull cause that moves Eteocles 
With Polynice to enter civil warres 
Is overgreat, and for this onely cause 
Full many men have broke the lawes of truth, 
And topsieturvie turned many townes. 80 

" To gredie (daughter), too too gredie is 

71 To . . . in. MS. adds ( — ) at the end of this line. 



1 68 ^iocasfta [acti. 

E il desio dl regnar, ne ben comporta 75 

Chi solo e in Signoria di aver compagno : 

Pur non bisogna diffidarsi punto 

Deir aiuto dei Dii, perocch' ei sono 

Giusti e pietosi : e, lor mercede, fanno 

Quello per noi che puo umana forza. 80 

Jnt. Ambi son miei fratelli, et ambedoi 
Gli amo, quanto piii amar sorella deve. 
Ma r ingiuria ch' ha fatto a Polinice 
Questo crudel, ch' ha effetto di tiranno, 
M' induce ad amar piij la vita e '1 bene 85 

Di Polinice, ch' i' non fo di lui : 
Oltre ch', essendo Polinice in Tebe, 
Mostro sempre ver me piii caldo amore, 
Che non fee' egli ; a cui par ch' io mi sia 
Caduta in odio : anzi io mi sono accorta 90 

Che vorria non vedermi, e forse pensa 
Tormi di vita ; e, Io fara, potendo. 
Onde questa da me bramata nuova 
M' e cara pel desio ch' ho di vederlo ; 
Ma la tema del mal, quanto piu 1' amo, 95 

Tanto piu il dolce mio cangia in amaro. 



Scene III] 3lOCafifta 1 69 

Desire to rule and raigne in kingly state." 

Ne can he bide that swaise a realme alone 

To have another joynde with him therein : 

Yet must we hope for helpe of heavenly powers, 85 

Sith they be juste, their mercy is at hande 

To helpe the weake, when worldly force doth 

faile. 
An, As both my brethren be, so both I beare 
As much good will as any sister may ; 
But yet the wrong that unto Polynice 90 

This trothlesse tyrant hath unjustlie shewd 
Doth lead me more to wishe the prosperous 

life 
Of Polynice than of that cruell wretch. 
Besides that, Polynice, whiles he remainde 
In Thebes here, did ever love me more 95 

Than did Eteocles, whose swelling hate 
Is towards me increased more and more : 
Wherof I partely may assure my selfe. 
Considering he disdaynes to visite me. 
Yea, happly he intends to reave my life, 100 

And having power he will not sticke to doe it. 
This therefore makes me earnestly desire 
Oft tymes to see him : yet ever as I thinke 
For to discharge the duetie of a sister. 
The feare I have of hurt doth chaunge as fast 105 
My doubtfull love into disdainefull spight. 

85 poivers. MS. puts (.) instead of (,) at end of line. 



170 ^iocasfta [acti. 

Bail. Pur dei, figliuola mia, sperar in Giove 
Ch' ei non vorra che, per cagion d'un rio, 
Patlsca insieme la bonta di molti : 
Dico di te, dico di Polinice, loo 

Di Giocasta tua madre, e parimente 
Delia diletta tua sorella Ismene; 
La qual, benche non si lamenti, o pianga, 
Non pero stimo che le prema il core 
Minor molestia. 

Ant. Appresso mi spaventa 105 

Certo sospetto (io non so donde nato) 
Ch' ho preso gia piu di sopra Creonte, 
II fratel di mia madre. Io temo lui 
Piii ch' io non fo d' altro periglio. 

Bail. Lascia, 

Figlia, questi sospetti : e poiche 'n breve "o 

Polinice vedrai, ritorna dentro. 

Jnt, Caro a me in questo mezzo intender 
fora 
L' ordine dell' esercito : e se questo 
£ tal, che basti ad espugnarne Tebe ; 
Che grado tien il mio fratello, e dove 115 



Scene III.l 3|0Cafifta 17I 

Bai. Yet, daughter, must ye trust in mightie 
Jove, 
His will is not that for thofFence of one 
So many suffer undeserved smarte : 
I meane of thee, I meane of Polynice, no 

Of Jocasta, thy wofull aged mother. 
And of Ismena, thy beloved sister. 
Who, though for this she doth not outwardly 
From drearie eyen distill lamenting teares, 
Yet do I thinke no lesse aflicting griefe 115 

Doth inwardly torment hir tender brest. 

An. Besides all this, a certaine jelousie. 
Lately conceyvde (I know not whence it 

springs) 
Of Creon, my mothers brother, appaules me 

much. 
Him doubt I more than any danger else. 120 

Bai. Deare daughter, leave this foolishe 
jelousie. 
And seeing that thou shalt heere shortly finde 
Thy brother Polynice, go in agayne. 

An. O joyfull would it be to me therwhile 
To understande the order of the hoste, 125 

Whether it be such as have sufficient power 
To overthrowe this mightie towne of Thebes. 
What place supplies my brother Polynice? 

126 Whether. Marked '* re,2 J if " in ** Faultes escaped correc- 
tion," Qi, but Q2, Q3 leave it unchanged. 



172 ^iocasfta [acti. 

Trovato T hai, e quai parole ei disse. 

E benche non convien si fatta cura 

•Alia mia giovenil tenera etadej 

Nondimeno, perch' io mi trovo ancora 

Cosi del ben, come del male a parte 120 

Delia cittade, e della casa nostra, 

Son vaga di saper quel ch' io non posso 

Intender, ne saper per altra lingua. 

Bail. Io lodo cosi bello alto desio, 
Magnanima fanciulla : e brevemente 125 

Te ne soddisfero del tutto a pieno, 
La gente ch' ha condotto Polinice, 
Di cui n' e Capitan, siccome quello 
Ch' e genero d' Adrasto, Re d' Argivi, 
E il fior di Grecia ; e tanta, ch' io non veggo 130 
Siccome possan sostenere i nostri 
Si grosso incontro, e cosi grave assalto. 
Giunto ch' io fui nel campo, ritrovai 
L' esercito ordinato, e tutto in armi, 
Come volesse allor dar la battaglia 135 

Alia Cittade. L' ordine diviso 
E in sette schiere ; e di quelle ciascuna 
E di buon Capitan posta in governo. 
A ognun de' Capitani e dato cura 
D' espugnar una porta : che ben sai 14° 

Che la nostra Cittade ha sette porte. 



Scene III] JlOCafifta 173 

Where founde ye him ? what answere did he 

give ? 
And though so great a care perteineth not 130 

Unto a mayde of my unskill [full] yeres. 
Yet, forbicause my selfe partaker am 
Of good and evill with this my countreysoyle, 
I long to heare thee tell those fearefull newes, 
Which otherwise I cannot understand. 135 

Bat. So noble a desire (O worthy dame) 
I much commende : and briefly as I can 
Will satisfie thy hungry minde herein. 
The power of men that Polynice hath brought 
(Whereof he, being Adrastus sonne in lawe, 140 
Takes chiefest charge) is even the floure of 

Grece, 
Whose hugie traine so mightie seemes to be, 
As I see not how this our drouping towne 
Is able to withstand so strong a siege. 
Entring the fielde, their armie did I iinde i45 

So orderly in forme of battaile set. 
As though they would forthwith have given the 

charge. 
In battailes seaven the host devided is. 
To eche of which, by order of the king, 
A valiant knight for captaine is assignde ; 15° 

And as you know this citie hath seven gates. 
So everie captaine hath his gate prescribde, 

131 unsktllfull, MS., Qi. Q2, Q3, unskill. 



1 74 ^tOCafilCa [Act I. 

Poich* io passal fra le nemiche genti, 

(Che securo mi fer 1' usate insegne 

D'Ambasciator) appresso il Re trovai 

Polinice di ricche armi guernito, 145 

A cui largo facea cerchio d' intorno 

Piu d' un Signor, e coronata testa. 

Com' ei mi vide, si cangio nel volto ; 

E, a guisa di figliuol, benignamente 

Mi cinse il collo, e mi bacio la fronte. 150 

Inteso poi quel che chiedea la madre, 

Mostrando quanto era di pace vago, 

Disse ch' egli verria nella Cittade : 

Mi domando d* Antigone, e d' Ismene ; 

E commise ch' a te, piu ch' ad altrui, 155 

Recassi a nome suo pace e salute. 

Jnt. Deh, piaccia al Ciel di far content© lui 
Del patrio Regno, e me della sua vista. 

Bail. Non piu, figliuola : omai ritorna dentro ; 
Ch' onor non e della Reale altezza 160 

Ch' alcun ti vegga a parlamento fuori : 
Perocche '1 volgo, alle calunnie intento, 

144 Ambasciator. O, imbasciator. 



Scene III.l ^OCaSfta 175 

With fierce assault to make his entrie at. 

And further, passing through our frouning 

foes 
(That gave me countnaunce of a messanger), 155 
Harde by the king I spied Polynice 
In golden glistring armes most richely cladde, 
Whose person many a stately prince enpalde, 
And many a comely crowned head enclosde : 
At sight of me his colour straight he chaungde,i6o 
And like a loving childe, in clasped armes 
He caught me up, and frendly kist my cheke. 
Then hearing what his mother did demaunde, 
With glad consent according to hir hest 
Gave me his hand, to come unto the court, 165 
Of mutuall truce desirous so he seemde ; 
He askt me of Antygone and Ismena, 
But chiefelie unto thee above the rest 
He gave me charge most heartly to commend 

him. 
An. The gods give grace he may at length 

possesse 170 

His kingly right, and I his wished sight. 

Bai. Daughter, no more, 'tis time ye nowe 

returne. 
It standes not with the honor of your state 
Thus to be scene suspiciously abrode : 
" For vulgar tongues are armed evermore 175 

173 standes. MS., standith. 



176 ^ioca0ta [acti. 

Sta sempre armato, per macchiar la fama 

D* onesta donna: e s' egli avvien che trovi 

Picciola occasion, V accresce tanto, 165 

Che n' empie di rumor tutte V orecchie : 

£ '1 grido d' onesta che di voi s' ode 

E qual tenero fior, ch' ad ogni fiato 

Di picciol' aura s' ammarcisce e muore. 

Ritorna ; che io n' andro per questa via 170 

Ad incontrar, s' io posso, Polinice. 



CORO. 

Se, come ambiziosa e ingorda mente 
Noi miseri mortali 
Diverse cose a desiar accende, 



Scene III.] ^OtU^tdi 1 77 

With slaunderous brute to bleamishe the re- 

noume 
Of vertues dames, which though at first it spring 
Of slender cause, yet doth it swell so fast. 
As in short space it filleth everie eare ^ glasse 

With swifte reporte of undeserved for yong 

blame : ^°"^^"- 

You cannot be to curious of your name : 
Fond shewe of evill (though still the minde be 

chast) 
Decayes the credite oft that ladies had. 
Sometimes the place presumes a wanton mynde : 
Repayre sometymes of some doth hurt their 

honor : 185 

Sometimes the light and garishe proude attire 
Persuades a yelding bent of pleasing youthes." 
The voyce that goeth of your unspotted fame 
Is like a tender floure, that with the blast 
Of everie litle winde doth fade away. 190 

Goe in, deere childe ; this way will I goe see, 
If I can meete thy brother Polynice. 

AntigonCy with hir maides, returneth into hir 
mothers pallace ; hir governour goeth out 
by the gates Homoloydes. 

Chorus. 

If greedie lust of mans ambitious eye 

(That thirsteth so for swaye of earthly things) 

177 'vertues. MS., vertuous. 



1 78 ^iocasfca [acti. 

Cosi sapesse antiveder i mali, 

E quel che parimente 5 

Giova air umana vita, e quel ch' ofFende : 

Tal piange oggi, e riprende 

Fortuna chi gioioso e lieto fora : 

Perocche con prudente accorto ciglio 

S' armeria di consiglio, 10 

Di quanto porge il Ciel contento ogn' ora ; 

Laddove avvien che con non poco afFanno 

Quel piu si cerca ch' e piu nostro danno. 

Alcun di questo umil fugace bene, 

Che si chiama bellezza, 15 

Superbo ando, che sospiro dappoi : 

Altri bramo dominio, altri ncchezza, 

E n* ebbe angoscie e pene, 

O vide acerbo fine ai giorni suoi : 

Perche non e fra noi ao 

Stato di cui fidar si possa alcuno. 

14 Alcun. O, cun, but corrected in ** Printers' Errors " at end 
of that edition, and in text of D. 



Chorus.] 3|OCa0ta 1 79 

Would eke foresee what mischefes growe therby, 
What carefull toyle to quiet state it brings, 
What endlesse griefe from such a fouritaine 

springs : 5 

Then should he swimme in seas of sweete de- 
light, 
That nowe complaines of fortunes cruell spight. 
For then he would so safely shielde himselfe 
With sacred rules of wisdomes sage advise. 
As no alluring trayne of trusties pelfe lo 

To fonde afFectes his fancie should entise ; 
Then warie heede would quickly make him 

wise : 
Where contrary (such is our skillesse kind) 
We most doe seeke that most may hurt the 
minde. 
Amid the troupe of these unstable toyes, 15 

Some fancies, loe, to beautie must be bent ; 
Some hunt for wealth, and some set all their 

joyes 
In regall power of princely governement ; 
Yet none of these from care are cleane exempt : 
For either they be got with grievous toyle, 20 

Or in the end forgone with shamefuU foyle. 
This flitting world doth firmely nought re- 
taine. 
Wherein a man may boldly rest his trust ; 

13 Where. MS., When. 16 mmt. MS., Qi, most. 



i8o ^iocasfta [acti. 

Quinci V instabil Diva in un momento 

Volge ogni uman contento, 

E n' invola i diletti ad uno ad uno : 

Talche tutto '1 gioir che 'I cor n' ingombra 25 

A par delle miserie e fumo et ombra. 

Da grave error fu circondato e cinto 

Quei che tranquilla vita 

Pose nella volgar piu bassa gente. 

Quando la luce a chi regge e sparita, 30 

A noi si asconde il giorno, 

E sdegna il Sol mostrarsi in Oriente : 

Ne puo si leggermente 

II Principe patir ruina, o scempio, 

Che '1 suddito meschin non senta il danno : 35 

E di cio d'anno in anno 

Scopre il viver uman piij d' uno esempio. 

Cosi delle pazzie de' Real petti 

Ne portano il flagel sempre i soggetti. 

Ecco siccome voglia empia, e perversa 40 

D' esser soli nel Regno 

U uno e r altro fratello all' arme ha spinto : 

Ma Polinice con piii onesto sdegno 

Move gente diversa 

Contra la patria: onde ne giace estinto 45 



Chorus] 31OCa0ta l8l 

Such fickle chaunce in fortune doth remaine, 
As when she lust, she threatneth whom she lust, 25 
From high renoume to throwe him in the dust : 
Thus may we see that eche triumphing joye 
By fortunes froune is turned to annoye. 

Those elder heades may well be thought to 

erre 
The which for easie life and quiet dayes 30 

The vulgar sorte would seeme for to preferre. 
If glorious Phoebe with-holde his glistring rayes 
From such a peere as crowne and scepter 

swayes. 
No mervaile though he hide his heavenly face 
From us that come of lesse renoumed race. 35 

Selde shall you see the ruine of a Argumentum 

prince, ^ '«^>''^- 

But that the people eke like brunt doe beare. 
And old recordes of auncient time long since, 
From age to age, yea almost everie where, 
With proofe herof hath glutted every eare : 40 

Thus by the follies of the princes hart 
The bounden subject still receiveth smart. 

Loe, how unbrideled lust of privat raigne 
Hath pricked both the brethren unto warre ; 
Yet Polynice, with signe of lesse disdaine, ^^ 

Against this lande hath brought from countries 

farre 

24 fickle. MS., ficklie. 



1 82 ^iocasfta [acti. 

Nel cor di velen tinto 

II debito, r amor, e la pietate : 

E, vinca chi si vuol de' due fratelli ; 

Noi Donne, e tutti quelli 

Di Tebe, sentirem la crudeltate 50 

Di Marte, che I'aspetto ad ambi ha mostro, 

Per tinger la sua man nel sangue nostro. 

Ma tu, figlio di Semele, e di Giove, 
Che I'orgogliose prove 

Vincesti de' Giganti empi e superbi, 55 

Difendi il popol tuo supplice pio, 
Che te sol cole, e te conosce Die. 



Chorus.] 31OCa0ta 1 83 

A forraine power to end this cruell jarre, 

Forgetting quite the dutie, love, and zeale 

He ought to beare unto this common weale. 

But whosoever gets the victorie, 50 

We wretched dames, and thou, O noble towne ! 

Shall feele therof the wofull miserie : 

Thy gorgeous pompe, thy glorious high re- 

noume. 

Thy stately towers and all shal fall a downe, 

Sith raging Mars will eache of them assist 55 

In others brest to bathe his bloudie fist. 

But thou, *0 Sonne of Semel and of ^„ , 

T * Bacchus. 

Jove, 

That tamde the proude attempt of giaunts 

strong. 

Doe thou defende, even of thy tender love, 

Thy humble thralls from this afflict- 

■' . Bacchus was 

mg wrong, ,he god whom 

Whom wast of warre hath now tor- they most 

mented long : 
So shall we never faile, ne day ne 

night, 
With reverence due thy prayses to resight 

Finis Jctus primi. 

Done by F, Kinwelmarshe. 



honored in 
Thebes. 



The order of the second 
dumbe shewe. 

Before the beginning of this seconde Acte dyd 
sound a very dolefull noise of flutes : during the 
which there came in upon the stage two coifines 
covered with hearclothes, and brought in by viii 
in mourning weed, and accompanied with viii 5 
other mourners : and after they had caried the 
coflins about the stage, there opened and ap- 
peared a grave, wherin they buried the coffins, 
and put fire to themj but the flames did sever 
and parte in twaine, signifying discord by the 10 
history of two brethren, whose discord in their 
life was not onely to be wondred at, but, being 
buried both in one tombe (as some writers af- 
firme), the flames of their funeralls did yet parte 
the one from the other in like maner, and 15 
would in no wise joyne into one flame. After 
the funerals were ended and the fire consumed, 
the grave was closed up again, the mourners 
withdrew them off the stage, and immediately, 
by the gates Homoloydes entred PoUinyces, ac- 20 

5 weed. Q3, weeds. 11 tivo. MS., the two. 



tEtl^e orDer of tlir 0econD oumbe ^tietoe 185 

companied with vi gentlemen and a page that 
carried his helmet and target ; he and his men 
unarmed saving their gorgets, for that they were 
permitted to come into the towne in time of 
truce, to the end Jocasta might bring the two 25 
brethren to a parle : and Pollinyces, after good 
regard taken round about him, speake as fol- 
oweth. 



Atto Secondo 

[SCENA I.] 

Polinicey Coro, Giocasta. 

Polinice. Questa e pur la Citta propria e natia : 
Questo e il paterno mio diletto nido. 
Ma, bench' io sia tra le mie stesse case, 
E 'nsieme securta me ne abbia data 
Colui che gode le sostanze mie, ^ 

Non debbo camminar senza sospetto ; 
Poich' ove e '1 mio fratello, ivi bisogna 
Ch' io tema piii, che fra nemiche genti. 
£ ver che, mentre nella destra mano 
Sostengo questa giusta e invitta spada, ,o 

S' io morro, non morro senza vendetta. 
Ma ecco il santo Asilo, ecco di Bacco 
La veneranda Immago, ecco 1' altare. 
La dove il sacro foco arde e risplende ; 
E dove nel passato al nostro Dio 15 

Tante gia di mia man vittime offersi. 
Veggo dinanzi un onorato coro 
Di donne ; e sono appunto della corte 
Di Giocasta mia madre. Ecco siccome 



Actus 2. Scena i. 
Polinicesy Chorus. \Later\ Jocasta, Eteocles. 

\Polinices^ Loe, here mine owne citie and 

native soyle, 
Loe, here the nest I ought to nestle in ! 
Yet, being thus entrencht with mine owne 

towres, 
And that from him the safeconduct is given. 
Which doth enjoye as much as mine should be, 5 
My feete can treade no step without suspect : 
For where my brother bides, even there behoves 
More warie scout than in an enmies campe. 
Yet while I may within this right hand holde 
This (*) bronde, this blade (unyelden ever Sworde. 

yet), 10 

My life shall not be lefte without revenge. 
But here beholde the holy sancturie. 
Of Bacchus eke the worthie image : loe 
The aultars where the sacred flames have shone. 
And where of yore these giltlesse hands of mine 15 
Full oft have offered to our mightie gods. 
I see also a worthie companie 
Of Thebane dames, resembling unto me 
The traine of Jocasta, my deare mother : 



1 88 ^iocasfta [acth. 

Son vestite di panni oscuri e negri, 20 

Color ch' altrove mai, per altri danni, 

A' miseri non fur conforme tanto; 

Ch' in breve si vedran (merce del folle 

E temeraric ardir del suo Tiranno) 

Prive, altre de' figliuoli, altre de' padri, ^5 

Et altre de' mariti, e amici cari. 

Ma tempo e di ripor la spada, e 'nsieme 

Dimandar lor della Reina. Donne 

Meste e infelici, dove senza voi 

£ la Reina misera di Tebe ? 3° 

Coro. Del nostro Re figlio, o Signor caro, 
Ch' a noi tornate dopo tanti giorni, 
La venuta di voi felice sia, 
E renda pace alia Citta turbata. 
O Reina, o Reina, uscite fuori : 35 

Ecco r amato figlio, 
Ecco il frutto gentil del vostro seme. 



Scene I.] 3|OCa0ta 1 89 

Beholde them clad in clothes of griesly blacke, 20 
That hellishe hewe that (*) nay for other Never. 

harmes 
So well besemed wretched wightes to weare : 
For why ? Ere long their selves, themselves 

shall see 
(Gramercy to their princes tyrannie) 
Some spoyled of their sweete and sucking babes, 25 
Some lese their husband, other some their sire. 
And some their friends that were to them full 

dere. 
But now tis time to lay the sworde aside. 
And eke of them to knowe where is the Queene : 
O worthie dames ! heavie, unhappie ye ! 30 

Where resteth now the restlesse queene of 

Thebes ? 
Chorus. O worthie impe, sprong out of wor- 
thie race, 
Renoumed prince, whom wee have lookt for 

long. 
And nowe in happie houre arte come to us. 
Some quiet bring to this unquiet realme. 35 

O queene, O queene, come foorth and see thy 

Sonne, 
The gentle frute of all thy joyfuU seede. 

Sivorde. Ne-ver. Qz reverses the order of the two side-notes j 
the mistake is corrected in Q3. 

28 the. MS., Qi, this. 30 ye. MS., you. 



190 ^ioca^ta [act 11. 

Giocasta. Care gentili amiche, 
Dilette e fide ancelle, 

lo movo al suon delle parole vostre 40 

I debol piedi, io movo, 

Non men per duol, che per vecchiezza, tarda. 
Ov' e r amato figlio, ov* e colui, 
Per cui meno in sospir le notti, e i giorni ? 

Pol. Madre, egli e qui, non come cittadino, 45 
E Re di Tebe, ma come conviensi 
A peregrin, merce di suo fratello. 

Gio. O bramato da me dolce figliuolo : 
Io ti miro, io ti tocco, e appena il credo. 
Appena il petto mio puo sostenere 50 

L' insperata letizia che 1' ingombra. 
O caro aspetto, ove me stessa io veggio. 

Coro. Si vi conceda Dio di veder ambi 
Per comun bene i vostri figli amici. 

47 peregrin. O, pellegrin. di. O, del. 



Scene I.] KlOCafifta I91 

[^EnUr Jocasta,'^ 

yocasta. My faithfull frends, my deare be- 
loved maydes, 
I come at call, and at your wordes I move 
My feebled feete with age and agonie : 40 

Where is my sonne ? O tell me, vi^here is he 
P'or whome I sighed have so often syth, 
For whom I spende both nightes and dayes in 
teares ? 
Pol. Here, noble mother, here ! not as the 
king. 
Nor as a citizen of stately Thebes, 45 

But as a straunger nowe, I thanke my brother. 
yoc. O Sonne ! O sweete and my desyred 
Sonne ! 
These eyes thee see, these handes of myne thee 

touche. 
Yet scarsly can this mynde beleeve the same. 
And scarsly can this brused breast susteyne 50 

The sodeyne joye that is inclosde therein : 
O gladsome glasse, wherein I see my selfe ! 
Chor. So graunt the gods that, for our com- 
mon good. 
You frendly may your sonnes both frendes be- 
holde. 

48 thee see. Qq, they see. MS. puts t/iey in both cases, but the 
y was afterwards marked out. 
53 (^^(- Q2, Q3 omit. 



192 ^ioca0ta [actii. 

Gio. Tu col tuo dipartir lasciasti, o figlio, 55 
La tua casa dolente, e me tua madre 
Colma d' ogni martir, piangendo sempre 
L' indegno esilio che '1 fratel ti diede. 
Ne fu, iigliuol, mai desiato tanto 
Da' cari amici suoi lontano amico, 60 

Quanto il ritorno tuo da tutta Tebe. 
Ma, per parlar di me, piu che d' altrui ; 
lo, (come veder puoi) disposti avendo 
I real panni, in abito lugubre 

Tenute ho sempre queste membra invoke : 65 

Ne da quest' occhi e uscito altro, che pianto: 
E '1 vecchio padre tuo, misero, e cieco, 
Poiche intese la guerra ch' e fra vol, 
Pentito al fin d' aver pregato i Dii 
Piij volte, e piii per la rovina vostra, 70 

Ha voluto finir miseramente 
O con laccio, o coltel 1' odiata vita. 
Tu in tanto, figliuol mio, fatt' hai dimora 
In lontani paesi, e preso moglie, 



Scene!.] 3IOCa0ta 193 

'Joe, At thy departe, O lovely chylde, thou 
lefte 55 

My house in teares, and mee, thy wretched 

dame, 
Myrrour of martirdome, (*) waymenting * Lament- 
still ing- 
Th'unworthie exile thy brother to thee gave : 
Ne was there ever sonne or friende farre off, 
Of his deare frendes or mother so desyred 60 
As thy returne in all the towne of Thebes. 
And of my selfe more than the rest to speake, 
I have, as thou mayste see, cleane cast asyde 
My princely roabes, and thus in wofuU weede 
Bewrapped have these lustlesse limmes of myne : 65 
Naught else but teares have trickled from myne 

eyes ; 
And eke thy wretched, blynde and aged syre. 
Since first he hearde what warre tweene you 

there was. 
As one that did his bitter cursse repent. 
Or that he prayed to Jove for your decaye, yo 

With stretching string or else with bloudie knyfe 
Hath sought full ofte to ende his loathed lyfe. 
Thou this meane whyle, my sonne, hast lingred 

long 
In farre and forreyn coastes, and wedded eke, 

57 'Waymenting. MS., lamentyng. 

58 to. MS. omits. 



194 ^iocasfta [actii. 

Onde di pellegrine nozze attendi, 75 

Quando piacera al Ciel, figliuoli e prole : 

II che m* e grave, e molto piu, figliuolo, 

Che potuto non m' ho trovar presente, 

E fornir queil' officio che conviene 

A buona madre : ma, perocch' intendo go 

Che questo maritaggio e di te degno, 

10 ti vo' confortar pietosamente 
Che torni ad abitar la tua Cittade; 
Che ben e per la moglie, e per te fia 

Comodo albergo. T' esca omai di mente 85 

L' ofFesa del fratello : e sappi, o figlio, 

Che d' ogni mal ch* abbia a seguir tra vol 

A me stessa verra la pena e '1 duolo : 

Ne potrete segnar si leggermente 

Le vostre carni, che la mano, e '1 ferro 90 

Non apra insieme a questa vecchia il petto. 

Coro. Amor non e che s' appareggia quelle 
Che la pietosa madre ai figli porta ; 

11 qual tanto piu cresce, quanto in essi 

Scema il contento, e crescono gli afFanni. 95 



Scene I.] ^lOCH^Ca 195 

By whome thou mayste(when heavens appoyntes 

it so) 75 

Straunge issue have by one a stranger borne, 
Whiche greeves me sore, and much the more, 

deare chylde, 
Bicause I was not present at the same. 
There to performe thy loving mothers due. 
But for I fynde thy noble matche so meete, 80 

And woorthie bothe for thy degree and byrthe, 
I seeke to comforte thee by myne advise. 
That thou returne this citie to inhabite, 
Whiche best of all may seeme to be the bowre, 
Bothe for thy selfe and for thy noble spouse. 85 
Forget thou then thy brothers injuries. 
And knowe, deare chylde, the harme of all misse- 

hap 
That happes twixt you, must happe likewise to 

mee : 
Ne can the cruell sworde so slightly touche 
Your tender fleshe, but that the selfe same 

wounde 9° 

Shall deepely bruse this aged brest of myne. 
Cho. " There is no love may be comparde to 

that 
The tender mother beares unto hir chyld : 
For even somuche the more it dothe encrease. 
As their griefe growes or contentations cease." 95 

75 appoyntes. MS., appoint. 



196 ^iocas^ta [acth. 

Pol. Madre, io non so se d' aver lod' io 
merto ; 
Che, per piacer a voi, cui piacer debbo, 
Mi sia condotto in man de' miei nemici, 
Ma sforzato e ciascun (voglia, o non voglia) 
La patria amar : e s' altrimente dice, 
Ben con la lingua il cor non e conforme. 
Questo me, dopo 1' obbligo di figlio. 
Ha indotto, madre, a non prezzar la vita ; 
Perche dal mio fratel sperar non posso 
Altro ch' insidie e tradimenti, e forza. 
Con tutto cio ritrar non m' ha potuto 
Ne pericol presente, ne futuro, 
Ch' io rimanessi d' ubbidire a voi. 
Ma non posso veder senza mia doglia 
I paterni palazzi, e i santi altari, 
E i cari alberghi ove nudrito i' fui ; 
Da' quai spinto, e cacciato indegnamente, 
Nelle case d' altrui faccio dimora. 
Ma, siccome da verde e fresca pianta 
Novi rampolli un sopra 1' altro nasce ; 
Cosi air interno mio grave tormento 
Un se n' aggiunge, e forse anco maggiore. 
Quest' e il veder voi, mia diletta madre, 
Ricoperta di panni atri e funesti. 



Scene I.J 3IOCa0ta 197 

Pol. I knowe not, mother, if I prayse deserve 
(That you to please, whome I ought not dis- 
please) 
Have traynde my selfe among my trustlesse foes : 
But nature drawes (whether he will or nill) 
Eche man to love his native countrey soyle : loo 
And who shoulde say that otherwise it were. 
His toung should never with his hearte agree. 
This hath me drawne, besyde my bounden due, 
To set full light this lucklesse lyfe of myne : 
For of my brother what may I else hope 105 

But traynes of treason, force and falshoode 

bothe ? 
Yet neyther perill present nor to come 
Can holde me from my due obedience : 
I graunte I can not grieflesse wel beholde 
My fathers pallace, the holie aultars, no 

Ne lovely lodge wherin I fostred was : 
From whence driven out and chaste unworthily, 
I have to long aboade in forreyn coastes : 
And as the growing greene and pleasant plante 
Dothe beare freshe braunches one above another, 115 
Even so amidde the huge heape of my woes. 
Doth growe one grudge more greevous than the 

rest. 
To see my deare and dolefull mother cladde 
In mourning tyre, to tyre hir mourning minde, 

no the. Hazlitt, and the. 



198 ^iotasfta [act 11. 

Misera sol per la miseria mia. 120 

Cosi place al fratello, anzi nimico : 

Ben vedrete vol tosto come al mondo 

Nimicizia non e che vada eguale 

A quella che produce fra' congiunti, 

Per qualunque cagion, disdegno ed ira. 125 

Ma sallo Dio quanto per voi mi duole, 

E del misero stato di mio padre : 

E desio di saper qual vita tiene 

L' una e 1' altra di me cara sorella, 

E qual r esilio mio lor porge afFanno. 130 

Gio. Ahi, che 1' ira di Giove abbatte e 
strugge 
La progenie d'Edipo. La cagione 
Prima furon le nozze di tuo padre, 
Dappoi (deh, perche tocco le mie piaghe ?) 
Me partorito aver, voi V esser nati : 135 

Ma quel che vien dal Ciel sofFrir bisogna. 
Ben grato mi saria di dimandarti 
D* alcune cose ; e non vorrei, figliuolo, 
Che le parole mie ti fosser gravi. 

Pol. Dite pur, madre mia, quel che v' 

aggrada : 140 

Che quanto piace a voi tanto a me piace. 

Gio. Non pare a te che sia gravoso male 



Scene I.] jflOCa^ta 1 99 

Wretched alonely for my wretchednesse ; 120 

So lykes that enimie, my brother, best : 

Soone shall you see that in this wandring worlde 

No enmitie is equall unto that 

That dark disdayne (the cause of every evill) 

Dooth breede full ofte in consanguinitie. 125 

But Jove, he knowes what dole I doe endure 

For you and for my fathers wretched woe, 

And eke how deepely I desire to knowe 

What wearie lyfe my loving sisters leade, 

And what anoye myne absence them hath 

given. 130 

y<?c. Alas, alas, howe wrekefull wrath of gods 
Doth still afflicte Oedipus progenie : 
Thy fyrste cause was thy fathers wicked bedde, 
And then (oh, why doe I my plagues recompte ?) 
My burden borne and your unhappie birth : 135 
" But needes we must with pacient heartes abyde 
What so from high the heavens doe provide." 
With thee, my chylde, fayne would I question 

yet 
Of certaine things : ne woulde I that my wordes 
Might thee anoye, ne yet renewe thy griefe. 140 
Pol. Saye on, deare mother, say what so you 

please : 
What pleaseth you shall never mee disease. 
Joe. And seemes it not a heavie happe, my 

Sonne, 



200 ^iocasfta [act h. 

L' esser, figliuol, della sua patria privo ? 

Pol. Gravoso si, che non puo dirsi appieno. 

Gio. E quale e la cagion che piu molesti 145 
L' uomo, quando in esilio si ritrova ? 

Pol. La liberta che con la patria perde, 
E '1 non aver di ragionar licenza 
Senza rispetto alcun quel che gli pare. 

Gio. Al servo, figliuol mio, non e concesso 150 
Scoprir 1' animo suo senza periglio. 

Pol. Ciascun esule, o sia libero, o sia 
D' alta stirpe disceso, e al servo eguale : 
Perocche suo mal grado gli conviene 
Obbedir alle voglie di ciascuno, 155 

E lodar le pazzie di chi comanda. 

Gio. E questo pare a te tanto molesto ? 

Pol. Non e doglia maggior ch' esser forzato 
Servir a chi non dee contra 1' onesto ; 
E molto piu, quando si trova 1' uomo 160 

Nobile o per istirpe, o per virtute, 
Et abbia a nobilta conforme il core. 



Scene I] 3l0CaS?ta 201 

To be deprived of thy countrey coastes ? 

PoL So heavie happe as toung can not ex- 

presse. HS 

Joe. And what may moste molest the Exile an ex- 
mynde of man '']\Tto an 

[That] is exiled from his native hontst 

SOyle ? mynde. 

Pol. The libertie hee with his countrey loste, 
" And that he lacketh freedome for to speake 
What seemeth best, without controll or checke." 150 

Joe. Why so ? eche servant lacketh libertie 
To speake his minde without his maisters 
leave. 

Pol. " In exile every man, or bonde or ^u g^yjeg 

free, are like 

Of noble race or meaner parentage, bondmen. 

Is not in this unlike unto the slave, 155 

That muste of force obey to eche mans will. 
And prayse the peevishnesse of eche mans 
pryde." 

Joe. And seemed this so grievous unto thee .? 

Pol. What griefe can greater be, than so 
constraynde 
Slavelike to serve gaynst right and reason bothe, 160 
Yea, muche the more to him that noble is 
By stately lyne or yet by vertuous lyfe, 
And hath a heart lyke to his noble mynde. 

147 That. Q2, This. That in MS., Qi, and Q3. 



202 ^iocasfta [act h. 

Gio. Nella miseria sua chi lo mantiene ? 

Pol. La speranza de' miseri conforto. 

Gio. Speranza di tornar ond' e cacciato ? 165 

Pol. Speme che troppo tarda ; e alcuna volta 
Ne muore 1' uom, pria che sortisca efFetto. 

Gio. E come, figliuol mio, nanzi alle nozze 
Sostenevi lontan la propria vita ? 

Pol. Trovava pur, benche di rado, alcuno 170 
Che, cortese e benigno, compartiva 
Qualche poco alimento al viver mio. 

Gio. Non ti porgeano a tal bisogno aita 
Gli amici di te stesso, e di tuo padre ? 

Pol. E sciocco, madre mia, sciocco e chi 
crede 175 

Nelle miserie sue trovar amici. 

Gio. Ti doveva giovar la nobiltade. 

Pol. Ahi, che la poverta la copre e oscura. 

Gio. Esser dee sempre alii mortali adunque, 
Piii che tutti i tesor, la patria cara. 180 



Scene I] 3|OCa0ta 203 

'Joe. What helpeth moste in suche j^^ ^ ^ 

adversitie ? help in 

Pol. Hope helpeth moste to comfort miserye. 
miserie. 165 

Joe. Hope to returne from whence he fyrst 

was driven ? 
Pol. Yea, hope that happeneth oftentymes to 
late, 
And many die before such hap may fall. 

Joe. And howe didst thou before thy manage, 
Sonne, 
Mainteyne thy lyfe, a straunger so bestad ? 170 
Pol. Sometyme I founde (though seldome so 
it were) 
Some gentle heart that coulde for curtesye 
Contente himselfe to succour myne estate. 
Joe. Thy fathers friends and thyne, did they 
not helpe 
For to releeve that naked neede of thyne ? 175 

Pol. " Mother, he hath a foolishe Few frends 

fantasie in miserye. 

That thinkes to fynd a frende in miserie." 
Joe. Thou mightest have helpe by thy no- 

bilitie. 
Pol. " Covered, alas, in cloake of povertie ! " 
Joe. " Wei ought we then, that are but 
mortall heere, 180 

Above all treasure counte our countrey deare : " 

181 our. Q3, your. 



204 ^iocasfta [act n. 

Ora io vorrei saper, dolce figliuolo, 

Per qual cagion ti conducesti in Argo. 

Pol. Mi mosse a cio la fama, ch' all' orecchie 

Mi rapporto che Adrasto, Re d' Argivi, 

Aveva inteso dagli Oracol come 185 

Due figliuole, che belle, e sole aveva 

Congiungerebbe in matrimonio tosto 

A un Leone e a un Cinghial : cosa, che tutto 

Gli empi V animo e '1 cor di maraviglia. 

Gio. A te che appartenian questi animali? 19° 
Pol. Io presi augurio dalP insegna mia, 

La qual, come sapete, e d' un Leone : 

Benche io posso affermar che solo Giove 

Mi conducesse a cosi gran ventura. 

Gio. Come avvenne, o figiiuol, si raro effetto ? 195 
Pol. Era sparito in ogni parte il giorno, 

E la terra adombrava oscuro velo ; 

Quand' io, cercando ove alloggiar la notte 

Dopo lungo cammin, stanco pervenni 

A una picciol loggetta che congiunta aoo 

Era di fuori alle superbe mura 

Delia ricca citta del vecchio Adrasto : 



Scene I] 31OCa0ta 205 

Yea, let me knowe, my sonne, what cause thee 

moved 
To goe to Grece ? 

Pol. The flying fame that thundred in myne 
eares, 
How king Adrastus, governour of Greece, 185 

Was answered by oracle, that he 
Shoulde knitte in linkes of lawfull mariage 
His two faire daughters and his onely heires, 
One to a lyon, th' other to a boare : 
An answere suche as eche man wondred at. 190 
Joe. And how belongs this answere now to 

thee ? 
Pol. I toke my gesse even by this ensigne 
heere, 
A lyon, loe, which I did alwayes beare : 
Yet thinke I not but Jove alonely brought 
These handes of myne to suche an high exploite. 195 
Joe. And howe yet came it to this straunge ef- 
fect ? 
Pol. The shining day had runne his hasted 
course. 
And deawie night bespread hir mantell darke, 
When I that wandred, after wearie toyle. 
To seke some harbrough for myne irked limmes,2oo 
Gan fynde at last a little cabbin, close 
Adjoyned faste unto the stately walles. 
Where king Adrastus held his royall towres. 



2o6 ^iocafi^ta [act n. 

Quivi appena fui giunto, che vi giunse 

Un altro esule ancor, detto Tideo ; 

II qual, volendo me cacciar di fuori 205 

Di quel picciol albergo, ambi venimmo 

A stretta guerra ; et il rumor fu tale, 

Che in fine il Re 1' intese : il che gli diede 

Occasion di celebrar le nozze ; 

Che vedendo 1' insegne ad ambi noi 210 

Di quelle fere che gli fur predette, 

L' uno e 1' altro per genero ci elesse. 

Gio. Bramo saper se la consorte e tale, 
Che gioir tu ne possa, o se altrimente. 

Pol. Certo piu bella, ne piii saggia donna 215 
Grecia non ha della mia cara Argia. 

Gio. Com' hai potuto indurre a prender V arme 
Cotanta gente a si dubbiosa impresa ? 

Pol. Giurocci Adrasto di riporne in breve 
Per forza d' arme nella patria nostra ; 220 

E prima me, che piu ne avea bisogno : 
Onde tutti i miglior d' Argo, e Micene 
Seguito m' hanno a tale impresa : certo 
A me tanto molesta, quanto degna. 



Scene L] 31OCa0ta 20; 

Scarce was I there in quiet well [ycoucht,] 
But thither came another exile eke, ^ , 

' Smal causes 

Named 1 ydeus, who strave perforce may move 

to drive the needy 

Mee from this sorie seate, and so at laste ^° conten . 
We settled us to fell and bloudie fight, 
Whereof the rumour grewe so great foorthwith 
That straight the king enformed was therof, 210 
Who, seeing then the ensignes that wee bare 
To be even such as were to him foresayde, 
Chose eche of us to be his sonne by lawe, 
And sithens did solemnize eke the same. 

^oc. Yet woulde I know if that thy wyfe be 
suche 215 

As thou canst joy in hir ? or what she is ? 

Pol. O mother deare, fayrer ne wyser dame 
Is none in Greece. Argia is hir name. 

^oc. Howe couldst thou to this doubtfull en- 
terprise 
So many bring, thus armed all at once ? 220 

Pol, Adrastus sware that he woulde soone re- 
store 
Unto our right both Tydeus and me : 
And fyrst for mee that had the greater neede ; 
Whereby the best and boldest blouds in Greece 
Have followed me unto this enterpryse, 225 

A thing both just and grievous unto me, 

204 ycoucht^ MS., Ql. Q2, Q3, ycought. 



2o8 ^ioca^ta [act n. 

Molesta dico ; che m' incresce e duole 225 

D' esser astretto, per cagion si grave, 

Di mover guerra alia mia patria cara. 

M' a voi, madre, appartien di far che questa 

Cagion si tolga ; e trar il iiglio vostro 

Del tristo esilio, e la Citta d' afFanno. 230 

Altramente io vi giuro ch' Eteocle, 

Che isdegna d' accettarmi per fratello, 

In breve mi vedra di lui Signore. 

Io dimando lo stato di cui debbo 

La meta posseder, s' io son d' Edipo, 235 

E di voi figlio ; che pur d' ambi sono. 

Per questo io spero ch' in difesa mia, 

Oltre r arme terrene, anco fia Giove. 

Coro. Ecco, Reina, che Eteocle viene ; 
Perocche Dio non vuol che lungamente 240 

Regni un Tiranno ; e chi regnar dovrebbe 
Sia tenuto lontan dalle sue case. 

239 Ecco . . . 'v'lene. This line is placed after 242 in the 
** Printers* Errors" of O. 



Scene L] 3(|0CaSfta 209 

Greevous I saye, for that I doe lament 

To be constrayned by such open wrong 

To warre agaynst myne owne deare countrey 

feeres. 
But unto you (O mother) dothe pertain 230 

To stinte this stryfe, and both deliver mee 
From exile now, and eke the towne from siege : 
For otherwise, I sweare you here by heavens, 
Eteocles, who now doth me disdayne 
For brother, shortly shall see me his lorde. 235 

I aske the seate, wherof I ought of right 
Possesse the halfe ; I am Oedipus sonne 
And yours, so am I true sonne to you both. 
Wherfore I hope that as in my defence 
The worlde will weygh, so Jove wil me assiste.240 

Eteocles commeth in here by the gates 
Electray himself armed, and before him 
XX gentlemen in armour , his two pages y 
wherof the one beareth his target, the 
other his helme. 

Chor. Beholde, O queene, beholde, 

O, . I The dames 

worthie queene ! djd i^ve 

Unworthie he, Eteocles, here commes ; Poiynke 

So woulde the gods that in this noble ^^^ ^f^ 

, ° Eteocles. 

realme 
Shoulde never long unnoble tyrant reigne. 
Or that with wrong the right and doutlesse heire245 
Shoulde banisht be out of his princely seate. 



210 ^iocasfta [acth. 

Usate voi tante ragioni, e tali, 

Ch' uno, e 1' altro fratello a pace torni. 

Eteocle, Madre, io son qui, per obbedir venut0 245 
Alle dimande vostre : or fate ch' io 
Sappia quel che da me voi ricercate 
Cosi fuor di proposito, et a tempo 
Che pill r officio mio la Citta brama. 
Vorrei saper qual utile di noi 250 

V abbia mosso a far tregua con Argivi, 
Et aprir la Cittade al mio nimico. 

G'lo. RafFrena, figliuol mio, 1' impeto e T ira 
Ch' ofFuscano la mente di chi parla 
In guisa, che la lingua, a mover pronta, 255 



Scene I] J^Ot^SftSi 211 

Yet thou, O queene, so fyle thy sugred toung, 
And with such counsell decke thy mothers tale, 
That peace may both the brothers hartes in- 
flame, 
And rancour yelde, that erst possesse the same. 250 
Eteocles. Mother, beholde, your hestes for to 
obey 
In person nowe am I resorted hither : 
In haste therefore fayne woulde I knowe what 

cause 
With hastie speede so moved hath your minde 
To call me nowe so causelesse out of time, 255 
When common wealth moste craves my onely 

ayde. 
Fayne woulde I knowe what quent commoditie 
Perswades you thus to take a truce for tyme. 
And yeld the gates wide open to my foe. 
The gates that myght our stately state defende,26o 
And now are made the path of our decay. 

^oc. " Represse, deare son, those raging 
stormes of wrath, 
That so bedimme the eyes of thine intent. 
As when the tongue (a redy instrument) 
Would fayne pronounce the meaning of the 

minde, 265 

256 my. MS., myne. 264 the. MS., thie. 

z^t^ fayne pronounce. MS., faynest tell. the minde. MS., 

thy minde. 

264-66 As ivhen . . . seemely ivorde. Omitted in Ql. 



212 ^ioca0ta [actii. 

Di rado puo formar parola onesta. 

Ma quando con lentezza, e senza sdegno 

L' uom, discorrendo quel che dir conviene, 

Voto di passion, la lingua scioglie, 

Allor escono fuor sagge risposte, 260 

E di prudenza ogni suo detto e pieno. 

Rasserena il turbato aspetto, o figlio, 

E non drizzar in altra parte gli occhi, 

Che qui non miri il volto di Medusa, 

Ma si trova presente ii tuo fratello. 265 

Tu, Polinice, ancor riguarda in viso 

II tuo fratel ; perche, veggendo in quelle 

La propria immago, intenderai, figliuolo, 

Che neir offender lui te stesso offendi. 

Ne rimaner gia d' ammonirti voglio 270 

Che, quando avvien che due fratelli irati, 

Parenti, o amici, son ridotti insieme 

D* alcun pietoso che ricerca e tenta 

270 d' ammonirti "voglio. O, d' ammonito io voglio. D, d' 
ammonirti io voglio. 



Scene!.] 3lOCa0ta 21^ 

It cannot speake one honest seemely wor 
But when disdayne is shrunke or sette asyu 
And mynde of man with leysure can discourse 
What seemely wordes his tale may best beseeme, 
And that the toung unfoldes without afFectes, 270 
Then may proceede an answere sage and grave, 
And every sentence sawst with sobernesse : " 
Wherefore unbende thine angrie browes, deare 

childe, 
And caste thy rolling eyes none other waye. 
That here doest not Medusaes (a) face (a) One of 

beholde, the furies. 

But him, even him, thy bloud and brother deare. 

And thou behold, my Polinices eke. 

Thy brothers face, wherein when thou mayst 

see 
Thine owne image, remember therewithall 
That what offence thou wouldst to him were 

^one, ^8^ 

The blowes thereof rebounde unto thy selfe. 
And hereof eke I would you both forewarne. 
When frendes or brethren, kinsfolke or allies, 
(Whose hastie hearts some angrie moode had 

moved) 
Be face to face by some of pitie brought, 285 

266 // cannot . . . ivorde. MS., 

Thie swelling hart puft up with wicked ire, 
Can scarce procure one inward loving thought. 



214 ^ioca0ta [acth. 

er fine alia discordia loro, 

^ . v^n considerar solo all' efFetto, 275 

r'er cui venuti son, e della mente 
Dipor del tutto le passate ofFese. 
Dunque sarai tu primo, o Polinice, 
A dir le ragion tue ; perocche mosso 
Hai contra noi queste nimiche genti, aSo 

Per ricevuta ofFesa del fratello ; 
Come s' odon suonar le tue parole : 
Racconta prima tu le tue ragioni ; 
E giudice di queste empie contese 
Sara alcun Dio pietoso ; il quale io prego 285 

Che vi spiri nel cuor desio di pace. 

Pol. Madre, la verita sempre esser deve 
Semplice e nuda; e non le fa mestiero 
Artificio di dir, ne di parole; 

Perch' ella mai da se non e diversa, 290 

E serba ogni ora una medesma faccia. 



Scene!.] 31OCa0ta 21 5 

Who seekes to ende their discorde and debate, 
They onely ought consider well the 

^ ^ & Rehersallof 

^^^S^ olde grudges 

For which they come, and cast out doth hinder 
of their minde al reconcUi- 

For evermore the olde offences past ; 
So shall sweete peace drive pleading out of 

place. 290 

Wherfore the first shall Polinices be. 
To tell what reason first his minde did rule, 
That thus our walles with forrein foes enclosde 
In sharpe revenge of causelesse wrongs receiv'd, 
As he alledgeth, by his brothers doome : 295 

And of this wicked woe and dire {f?) ry. ^^^^^ 

debate or venge- 

Some god of pitie be the equall judge, ^^^^• 
Whome I beseeche to breath in both your 

breasts 
A yelding heart to deepe desire of peace. 

Pol. " My woorthie dame, I finde that tried 
truthe 
Doth beste beseeme a simple naked simply w^hen^ 

tale, falssehood 

Ne needes to be with painted proces "^^^^ ^^°' 

* ^ quence. 

prickt. 
That in hir selfe hath no diversitie. 
But alwayes shewes one undisguised face, 

294 wrongs. MS. and Q3, wrong. 



2i6 ^iocasfta [actil 

Ma la menzogna cerca ombra e colori 
Di fallace eloquenza; e da se stessa 
In ogni tempo e varia, e differente. 

10 r ho detto piu volte, e a dir ritorno 295 
Che, affinche non avesser sopra noi 

Le biasteme del padre alcun effetto, 
Volentieri io partii della mia terra, 
Convenendo con questi ch' ei tenesse 

11 bel seggio paterno in regnar solo 300 
Per tanto spazio, che girasse 1' anno; 

II qual fornito, io succedessi a lui, 

E questa legge si serbasse sempre. 

Egli, benche giurasse uomini, e Dei 

D' osservar cotai patti ; nondimeno, 305 

Senza rispetto e riverenza alcuna 

Lei sprezzando e calcando sotto a' piedi, 

S' usurpa da Tiran la parte mia. 

Ma, s' egli consentir vuol ch' io ritorni 



Scene I] 31OCa0ta 21 7 

Where deepe deceipt and lies must seeke the 

shade, 305 

And wrap their wordes in guilefull eloquence, 
As ever fraught with contrarieties' 
So have I often sayde, and say againe. 
That to avoide our fathers foule reproche 
And bitter curse, I parted from this lande 310 

With right good will, yet thus with him agreed : 
That while the whirling wings of flying time 
Might roll one yeare aboute the heavenly 

spheare. 
So long alone he might with peace possesse 
Our fathers seate in princely (c) Dia- (c) Crown 

deme, or sceptre. 

And when the yeare should eke his course 

renue. 
Might I succeede to rule againe as long. 
And that this lawe might still be kept for aye, 
He bound him selfe by vowe of solemne othe, 
By gods, by men, by heaven, and eke by earth : 320 
Yet, that forgot, without all reverence 
Unto the gods, without respect to right. 
Without respect that reason ought to rule. 
His faith and troth both troden under foote, 
He still usurps, most tyrantlike, with wrong 325 
The right that doth of right to me belong. 
But if he can with equall doome consent 
That I retourne into my native soyle 



2i8 ^ioca0ta [acth. 

Nelle mie case, e tenga a par di lui 310 

Delia Citta comune il Real freno ; 

Madre, per tutti i Dei prometto e giuro 

Di levar questo assedio, e parimente 

L' esercito mandar onde e venuto. 

Ma, s* ei non lo consente, io faro quanto 315 

Ragion ricerca e la mia causa giusta : 

Testimonio nel Ciel mi fanno i Dei, 

E qui nel mondo gli uomini mortali. 

Come verso Eteocle in alcun tempo 

Non son mancato a quel che vuol 1' onesto, 320 

Ed ei contra ragion del mio mi priva. 

Questo ch' ho detto, o madre, e appunto quelle 

Che dir conviensi ; e tal, ch' io m' assecuro 

Che non men presso i buon, che presso i rei, 

Esser debba approvato in mia difesa. 325 

Coro. Chi puo negar che le parole vostre, 
Signor, non siano oneste, e di voi degne ? 



Scene I.] JOCa^ta 219 

To sway with him alike the kingly seate, 
And evenly beare the bridle both in hand, 330 

Deare mother mine, I sweare by all the gods 
To raise with speede the siege from these our 

walles. 
And send the souldiers home from whence they 

came : 
Which if he graunt me not, then must I do 
(Though loth) as much as right and reason 

would, 335 

To venge my cause, that is both good and 

just. 
Yet this in heaven the gods my records be, 
And here in earth each mortal! man may know, 
That never yet my giltlesse heart did fayle 
Brotherly duetie to Eteocles, 34© 

And that causelesse he holdes me from mine 

owne. 
Thus have I said, O mother, even as much 
As needefull is, wherein I me assure 
That in the judgement both of good and badde 
My words may seeme of reason to proceede, 345 
Constrained thus in my defence to speake. 
Chor. None may denie, O pere of princely 

race. 
But that thy words are honest, good, and just, 
And such as well beseeme that tong of thine. 

337 wy. S3, may. 



220 ^ioca0ta [act n. 

Eteo. Se quelle che ad alcun assembra onesto 
Paresse onesto parimenti a tutti, 
Non nasceria giammai contesa, o guerra. 330 

Ma quanti uomini son, tante veggiamo 
Esser 1' openion ; e quel che stima 
Altri ragion, ad altri e ingiuria e torto. 
Dal parer di cestui lungo cammino, 
Madre, (per dir il vero) e il mio lontano . 335 

Ne vi voglio occultar che, s' io potessi 
Su nel Cielo regnar, e giu in Inferno, 
Non mi spaventeria fatica, o afFanno, 
Per ritrovar al mio desio la strada 
Di gire in questo, o di salir in quello : 340 

Onde non e da creder ch' io commetta 
Che del dominio ch' io posseggo solo 
Altri venga a occupar alcuna parte : 
Ch' egli e cosa da timido e da sciocco 
Lasciar il molto, per aver il poco. 345 

Oltre di questo, ne verria gran biasmo 
Al nome mio, se costui, ch' e mosso 
Con r armi per guastar i nostri campi, 



Scene I.] 3|OCa0ta 221 

Eteo. "If what to some seemes hon- „ , 

Sundrye 

est, good, and just, men, 

Could seeme even so in every doubtfull sundry 

. 1 minds. 

mind, 
No darke debate nor quarell could arise : 
But looke ! how many men so many minds. 
And that, that one man judgeth good and just, 
Some other deemes as deepely to be wrong." 355 
To say the truth (mother) this minde of mine 
Doth fleete full farre from that farfetch of his, 
Ne will I longer cover my conceit : 
If I could rule or reigne in heaven above. 
And eke commaund in depth of darksome hell, 360 
No toile ne travell should my sprites abashe 
To take the way unto my restlesse will. 
To climbe aloft, nor downe for to descend. 
Then thinke you not that I can give consent 
To yeld a part of my possession, 
Wherin I live and lead the (*) mon- * Onely 

archie. rule. 

" A witlesse foole may every man him gesse 
That leaves the more and takes him to the 

lesse." 
With this, reproch might to my name redound, 
If he, that hath with forren power spoilde 370 

Our pleasaunt fields, might reave from me per- 
force 

362 take, MS. and Qi, make. 
364 give, MS. and Qi, yelde. 



222 ^ioca0ta [act ii. 

Ottenesse da me quel che vorria. 

Non seguirebbe ancor minor vergogna 35° 

A' nostri cittadin, s' io per paura 

Di gente Argiva, concedessi a questo 

Poggiar di Tebe all' onorata altezza. 

In fin, non dovev' ei cercar fra noi 

La pace e 1' union per forza d' arme, 355 

Ma con preghi e umilta : perocche spesso 

Fan le parole quel che non puo il ferro. 

Nondimeno, s' ei vuol nella Cittade 

Abitar come figlio di Giocasta, 

Non come Rei di Tebe, io gliel concedo ; 360 

Ma non istimi gia che, mentre io posso 

Comandar ad altrui, voglia esser servo. 

Mova pur contra noi le genti armate ; 

E i fuochi, e i ferri ; ch' io per me giammai 

Non son per consentir che meco regni : 365 

Che s' egli si convien per altro effetto, 

Si convien molto piii (se 1' uomo e saggio) 

Per cagion di regnar romper la legge. 



Scene I] ^OCaS^ta 223 

What so he list by force of armes demand. 

No lesse reproofe the citizens ensewes, 

If I, for dread of Greekish hosts, should graunt 

That he might climbe to height of his desire. 375 

In fine, he ought not thus of me to crave 

Accord or peace with bloudy sword in hand. 

But with humilitie and prayer both : 

For often is it scene, and proofe doth teach, 

" Swete words prevaile where sword and fire do 

faile." 380 

Yet this, if here within these stately walles 
He liste to live, the sonne of Oedipus, 
And not as king of Thebes, I stand content. 
But let him thinke, since now I can commaunde, 
This necke of mine shall never yeld to yoke 3^5 
Of servitude : let bring his banners splayde. 
Let speare and shield, sharpe sworde and cynd- 

ring flames 
Procure the parte that he so vainely claimes : 
As long as life within this brest doth last, 
I nill (*) consent that he should 

^ ^ • , * Wilnot. 

reigne with me. 
If lawe of right may any way be broke, 
" Desire of rule within a climbing brest, Tuiiyes 
To breake a vow may beare the buckler op^yon- 

best." 

380 dofaile. MS. and Qi omit do. 2^ j fames. MS., flame. 



224 €^ioca0ta [acth. 

Coro. Chi dell' onesto fuori esce con I'opra 
£ ragion ch' esca ancor con le parole. 370 

Gio. Figliuol mio,la vecchiezza, ch' esser suole 
Cinta da molti afFanni, ha questo bene ; 
Che per la lunga esperienza vede, 
E intende molte cose che non sanno 
E non veggono i giovani. Deh, lascia 375 

L' ambizion, ch' e la piu cruda peste 
Che ne infetti le menti de' mortal! : 
Ella nelle Cittadi, e nei palagi 
Entra sovente, e sempre seco adduce, 
E lascia al possessor danno e ruina. 380 

Questa distrugge 1' amicizia: questa 
Rompe le leggi, la concordia abbatte, 
E sossopra ne volge imperii e regni. 
Or col suo fele t' avvelena tanto, 
Che r intelletto infermo e fatto cieco 385 

Al proprio ben : ma tu la scaccia, o figlio, 



Scene L] 3|0Cafl^ta 225 

Cho, " Who once hath past the bounds of 
honestie 
In ernest deedes, may passe it well in words." 35^ 

yoc. O Sonne, amongst so many miseries 
This benefite hath croked age, I find, 
That, as the tracke of trustlesse time hath 

taught, 
" It seeth much and many things discernes Youth 
Which recklesse youth can never rightly sTmuch^ 

judge." as age. 

Oh, cast aside that vaine ambition. 

That corosive, that cruell pestilence. 

That most infects the minds of mortall men : 

" In princely palace and in stately Ambition 

tOWneS doth de- 

It crepeth ofte,and close with it con- stroyeah 

*^ ' equalytie 

VayeS doth mayn- 

(To leave behind it) damage and de- ^ey^e ai 

^ ^ ^ things. 

cayes : ^ 

By it be love and amitie destroyde. 
It breakes the lawes, and common concord 

beates, 
Kingdomes and realmes it topsie turvie turnes." 
And now even thee hir gall so poisoned hath 410 
That the weake eies of thine affection 
Are blinded quite, and see not to them selfe. 
But, worthie childe, drive from thy doubtful] 

brest 



226 6ioca0ta [act ii. 

Omai del core, e 'n vece d' ella abbraccia 

L' equita : questa le Citta mantiene, 

E lega r uom con stretto, e saldo nodo 

D' arnica fune che non rompe mai. 390 

Questa e propria dell' uomo ; e chi possede 

Vie piu di quel che gli convien, acquista 

Odio a se stesso, e talor pena e morte. 

Questa divise fe con giusta meta 

Le ricchezze, e i terreni, e questa eguali 395 

Rende i giorni alle notti : e 1' esser vinto 

Ora il lume dall' ombra, or dalla luce 

II fosco manto che la notte spiega, 

Ad alcun d' essi invidia non apporta. 

Dunque, se '1 giorno, e se la notte serve, 400 

L' uno, e r altra cedendo, all' util nostro ; 

Ben dei tu sostener che '1 tuo fratello 

Abbia teco egual parte di quel regno 

Che piacque al Ciel di far tra voi comune. 

II che se tu non fai, dove, figliuolo, 405 

La giustizia avra luogo ; senza cui 

Qua giix non dee, ne si puo regger stato? 

388 equita. O, egualita. 



Scene L] 3(!0CaSfta 22; 

This monstrous mate, in steade wherof embrace 
" Equalitie, which stately states defends, 415 

And binds the minde with true and trustie knots 
Of frendly faith which never can be broke ; 
This, man of right should properly possesse ; " 
And who that other doth the more embrace 
Shall purchase paine to be his just reward, 420 

By wrathfull wo or else by cruell death. 
" This first devided all by equall bonds 
What so the earth did yeld for our availe : 
This did devide the nightes and dayes alike. 
And that the vaile of darke and dreadfull night,425 
Which shrowds in misty clouds the pleasaunt 

light, 
Ne yet the golden beames of Phoebus rayes 
Which cleares the dimmed ayre with gladsome 

gleams. 
Can yet heape hate in either of them both." 
If then the dayes and nightes to serve our turne43o 
Content themselves to yeld each other place. 
Well oughtest thou with waightie dome to graunt 
Thy brothers right to rule the reigne with thee, 
Which heavens ordeyned common to you both : 
If so thou nill, O Sonne, O cruell sonne, 435 

" In whose high brest may justice j^ ^^^ ^^^^ 

builde hir boure be evill the 

When princes harts wide open lye to body cannot 

3 )5 be good. 

wrong r ^ 



228 ^iocasfta [acth. 

Perche apprezzi 1' efFetto di Tiranno ? 

E con r ingiuria altrui di render sazia 

L' ingorda mente ? Ahi, che non ben istimi 410 

Che '1 comandar altrui sia degna loda, 

Quando I' onesto non si tien in piede : 

Egli e vano desio posseder molto, 

Per esser molto combattuto sempre 

Da sospetto, d' affanno, e da paura. 415 

Se cerchi quel ch' e copia, ella per certo 

Altro non e, che nome : che aver quanto 

Basta r USD mortal naturalmente 

Appaga r uom, s' egli e modesto e saggio : 

E cotesti mortal caduchi beni 420 

Non son proprii d' alcun, ma espressi doni 

Che con benigna man Giove comparte, 

Perche ne siam di lor sempre ministri. 

E come ce gli da, cosi col tempo, 

Quando gli place, ce gli toglie ancora, 425 

E vuol ch' ogn' or da lui gli conosciamo ; 

Onde cosa non e stabile e ferma ; 

Ma suol cangiarsi col girar dell' ore. 



Scene I.] 31OCa0ta 229 

Why likes thee so the tipe of tyrannic, 
With others losse to gather greedy gaine? 
" Alas ! how farre he wanders from the truth 440 
That compts a pompe all other to command, 
Yet can not rule his owne unbridled will ; 
A vaine desire much riches to possesse. 
Whereby the brest is brusde and battered still 
With dread, with daunger, care and cold 

suspecte. 445 

" Who seekes to have the thing we call inough, 
Acquainte him first with contentation. Content 

For plenteousnesse is but a naked '^ rkhe. 

name ; 
And what suffiseth use of mortall men 
Shall best apay the meane and modest hearts. 45° 
These hoorded heapes of golde and worldly 

wealth 
Are not the proper goods of any one. 
But pawnes which Jove powres out Riches are 

aboundantly but borow- 

That we likewise might use them ^^ ^^''^• 

equally ; 
And as he seemes to lend them for a time, 455 

Even so in time he takes them home agayne. 
And would that we acknowledge every houre. 
That from his handes we did the same receive: 
There nothing is so firme and stayde to man 
But whyrles about with wheeles of restlesse 

time." 460 



230 ^ioca0ta [act ii. 

Ora, s' io voglio addimandarti quale 
Di due condizioni elegger brami : 430 

O serbar la Tirannlde che tieni, 
O conservar la tua Citta ; dirai 
La tirannide ? O figlio, empia risposta ; 
Che s' avverra che vincano i nemici ; 
Allor, veggendo saccheggiarne Tebe, 435 

E violar le Vergini, e menarne 
Una gran parte i vincitor captiva ; 
Allor conoscerai quanto sovente 
L' opulenzie, gli scettri, e le corone 
Apportano perdendole piu noia, 440 

Che non fan possedendole contento. 
Per conchiuder, figliuol, V ambizione 
£ quella che t' ofFende : e, se di lei 
Non ne liberi il cor, ti fo securo 
Che al fin te ne vedrai tardi pentito. 445 

Coro. Allor che nulla il pentimento giova. 



Scene I.] 3IOCa0ta 23 f 

Now if I should this one thing thee demaunde, 
Which of these two thou wouldest chuse to 

keepe, 
The towne quiet or unquiet tyrannie ? 
And wouldest thou say, I chuse my kingly 

chayre ? 

witlesse answere sent from wicked heart ! 465 
For if so fall (which mightie God defende) 
Thine enimies hand should overcome thy 

might, 
And thou shouldest see them sacke the towne 

of Thebes, 
The chastest virgins ravished for .. 

D More care 

wrecke, to loose 

The worthy children in captivitie, t^^" piesure 

" Then shouldest thou feele that seep- ^^ ^°^^^^' 

ter, crowne, and wealth 
Yeelde deeper care to see them tane away 
Than to possesse them yeldeth deepe content." 
Now to conclude, my sonne : Ambition 
Is it that most offends thy blynded thought ; 475 
Blame not thy brother, blame ambition, 
From whome if so thou not redeeme thy selfe, 

1 feare to see thee buy repentance deare. 

Cho. Yea, deare, too deare, when it shal 
come too late. 

475 Is it . . . thought. MS., Is it that most of all offends thy 
thought. Qi, Is it that most offendes thy thought. 



232 6iOta0ta [Act II. 

Gio. Quanto a te, Polinice, io voglio dire 
Che sciocco Adrasto, e tu imprudente fosti ; 
Quello a gradir alle tue insane voglie, 
E tu a mover le genti contro Tebe. 45° 

Or dimmi un poco : se la Citta prendi, 
(II che mai non concedano gli Iddii) 
Deh, quai spoglie, quai palme, e quai trofei 
Innalzerai d' aver la patria presa ? 
Quai titol degni d' immortale onore 455 

Scriver farai per testimonio eterno 
Di cotal opra ? O figlio, o figlio, questa 
Gloria dal nome tuo resti lontana. 
Ma, s' avverra che perditor ne sii, 
Con quai fronte potrai tornar in Argo, 460 

Lasciando qui di molta gente morta ? 
Malediratti ognun, come cagione 
Del danno suo, rimproverando Adrasto 
D' averti eletto alia sua figlia sposo; 



Scene I] 31OCa0ta 233 

^oc. And now to tliee, my Polinices deare, 480 
I say that sillie was Adrastus reade, 
And thou, God knowes, a simple sillie soule ; 
He to be ruled by thy heady wil. 
And thou to warre against the Thebane walls, 
These walls, I say, whose gates thy selfe should 

garde. 4^5 

Tell me, I pray thee, if the citie yeelde. 
Or thou it take by force in bloudie fight 
(Which never graunt the gods, I them beseeke). 
What spoyles ? what palmes ? what signe of 

victorie 
Canst thou set up to have thy countrie smaii glory 

WOOnne ? for ^ rebel 

What title worthie of immortall fame ^^^^^ ^'' 

Shall biased be in honor of thy name ? countrey 
O Sonne, deare sonne, beleeve thy spoyied. 

trustie dame. 
The name of glorie shall thy name refuse. 
And flie full farre from all thy fonde attemptes.495 
But if so fall thou shouldst be overcome. 
Then with what face canst thou returne to 

Greece 
That here hast lefte so many Greekes on grounde ? 
Eache one shall curse and blame thee to thy face. 
As him that onely caused their decaye, 500 

And eke condemne Adrastus simple heade 
That such a pheere had chosen for his childe. 



234 €>ioca0ta [act ii. 

E n' avverra ch' in un medesmo tempo 465 

Sarai poi d' Argo, e della patria escluso ; 
La qual puoi ricovrar senza fatica, 
Se giu lo sdegno e 1' alterezza poni. 

Coro. Dei, la vostra merce non consentite 
A questi mali, e tra i fratei nimici 470 

La bramata concordia omai ponete. 

Eteo. Certo queste non son fra noi contese, 
Madre, da terminar con le parole. 
Voi le ragioni, et io consumo il tempo, 
Et ogni vostro studio e posto indarno : 475 

Perch' io v' afFermo che tra noi non fia 
Pace giammai, se non con quelle istesse 
Condizion che poco innanzi ho dette ; 
Cioe, di rimaner, mentre ch' io vivo, 
E Principe, e Signor, e Re di Tebe : 480 

Onde lasciando tante sciocche e vane 
Ragioni, e ammonizion folli da parte, 
Concedete ch' io vadi ov' e bisogno. 
E tu levati fuor di queste mura, 
Altramente sarai di vita privo. 485 

Pol. Chi fia colui che me tolga di vita, 
Che in un punto di lei non esca meco ? 



Scene L] 3|OCa0ta 235 

So may it fall, in one accursed houre, 

That thou mayst loose thy wife and countrie 

both, 
Both which thou mayst with little toyle attaine,505 
If thou canst leave high minde and darke dis- 

daine. 
Cho, O mightie gods of goodnesse, never 

graunt 
Unto these evilles, but set desired peace 
Betwene the hearts of these two friendly foes. 
Eteo. The question that betwixt us two is 

growen, 510 

Beleeve me, mother, can not ende with words : 
You waste your breath, and I but loose my time, 
-And all your travell lost and spent in vaine : 
For this I sweare, that peace you never get 
Betweene us two, but with condition 515 

That whilst I live, I will be lord of Thebes. 
Then set aside these vaine forwasted wordes. 
And yeelde me leave to go where neede doth 

presse : 
And now, good sir, get you out of these walles, 
Unlesse you meane to buy abode with bloude. 520 
Pol. And who is he that seekes to have my 

bloude. 
And shall not shed his owne as fast as myne ? 

521 And . . . bloude. MS. adds in margin, they draiu theyr 
sivordes. 



236 ^ioca^ta [acth. 

Eteo. Ei t' e da presso, e tu gli sei davanti : 
E questa spada ne fara 1' effetto. 

Pol. E questa ancora in un medesmo tempo. 490 

Gio. O figli, o figli, riponete V arme, 
E pria che trapassar le vostre carni, 
Aprite a me con due ferite il petto. 

Pol. Ben sei di poco cor, timido, e vile : 
E questo avvien, che le grandezze fanno 495 

All' uom troppo tener la vita cara. 

Eteo. Se a combatter con uom timido avevi, 
Che ti accadeva, uomo ignorante e vile, 
Di condur tante genti a questa impresa ? 

Pol. II cauto Capitan sempre e migliore 500 

Del temerario ; e tu, piii che ciascuno, 
Vile, ignorante, e temerario sei. 



Scene I.] 3|OCa0ta 237 

Eteo. By thee he standes, and thou standst 
him before : 
Loe here the sworde that shall perfourme his 
worde ! 
Pol. And this shall eke mainteine my right- 
full cause. 525 
yoc. O sonnes, dear sonnes, away with glit- 
tring armes : 
And first, before you touch cache others flesh, 
With doubled blowes come pierce this brest of 
mine! 
Pol. Ah, wretch, thou art both vile and 
cowarde like ; 
Thy high estate esteemes thy life to deare. 530 
Eteo. If with a wretch or coward shouldst 
thou fighte, 
Oh dastard villaine, what first moved thee 
With swarmes of Greekes to take this enter- 
prise ? 
Pol. For well I wist that cankred heart of 
thine 
Coulde safely kepe thy heade within these walles,535 
And flee the fielde when combate should be 
callde. 

524 ivorde. MS., wordes. 

526 sonnes . . . armes. MS. adds in margin, tkeyr mother 
steppes betivene them. 



238 ^ioca0Ca [act h. 

Eteo. Polinice, la tregua t' assecura 
A formar tai parole : e ben ti deve 
Assecurar, che, se non fosse questa, 505 

Avrei gia tinto il ferro entro il tuo sangue, 
E sparsone di lui questo terreno. 

Pol. Del mio non spargerai tanto, ch' assai 
Piu non isparga anch' io del sangue tuo. 

G'lo. Deh, ligli, figli, per pieta restate. 510 

Coro. Oime, chi vide mai cosa piu fiera ? 

Pol. Rendimi, ladro, il mio che tu mi tieni. 
Non isperar giammai di regger Tebe : 
Qui nulla e piii di tuo, ne sara mai. 
Partiti tosto. 

Pol. O Patrii altari. 

Eteo, I quali 515 

Tu sei venuto a dipredar. 

Pol. O Dei, 

Ascoltate T onesta causa mia. 



Scene L] 3l0CaSfta 239 

Eteo. This truce assureth thee, Polynlces, 
And makes thee bolde to give such hosting 

wordes : 
So be thou sure that had this truce not bene, 
Then long ere this these handes had bene em- 

brude, 54© 

And eke this soyle besprinkled, with thy bloude. 
Pol. Not one small drop of my bloude shalt 
thou spill. 
But buy it deare against thy cankred will. 

Joe. O sonnes, my sonnes, for pittie yet re- 

frayne. 
Cho. Good gods, who ever sawe so strange a 
sight ? 545 

True love and frindship both be put to flight. 
Pol. Yelde, villein, yelde my right which thou 

witholdst. 
Eteo. Cut of thy hope to reigne in Thebane 
walles ; 
Nought hast thou here, nor nought shal ever 

have : 
Away ! 

Pol. O, aultars of my countrie soyle. 550 
Eteo. Whome thou art come to spoyle and to 

deface. 
Pol. O, gods, give eare unto my honest cause. 

537 assureth. MS. and Qi, assured. 
547 zvitholdst. Qi, with-holds. 



24Q (Siotasfta [act ii. 

Eteo. Di far con V armi alia sua patria guerra. 

PoL O sacri templi de* celesti Dei. 

Eteo. Che, per V opre tue inique, in odio 

t' hanno. 520 

PoL Cacciato io son della mia patria fuori. 

Eteo. Di cui per cacciar me venuto sei. 

Pol. Punite, o Dei, questo Tiranno ingiusto. 

Eteo. In Argo prega, e non in Tebe i Dei. 

Pol. Ben sei piu d' ogni fera empio, e crudele. 525 
' Eteo. Non alia patria, come tu, nemico. 

Pol. Posciache me de' proprii alberghi spingi. 

Eteo. Di vita ancor, se a dipartir piii tardi. 

Pol. Padre, udite 1' ingiuria ch' io ricevo. 

Eteo. Quasi ascose gli sian le tue belle opre. 530 

Pol. E voi, mia madre . . . 

Eteo. Taci, che non sei 

Degno di nominar di madre il nome. 

Pol. O Citta cara. 

Eteo. Come arrivi in Argo, 

Chiama, in vece di lei, 1' atra palude. 

534 atra. O, altra. 



Scene L] ^Otdi^tU 24 1 

Eteo. With forreine power his countrie to 

invade. 
Pol. O holy temples of the heavenly gods. 
Eteo. That for thy wicked deedes do hate thy 

name. 555 

Po/. Out of my kingdome am I driven by 

force. 
Ete. Out of the which thou camst me for to 

drive. 
Pol. Punish, O gods, this wicked tyrant here. 
Eteo. Pray to the gods in Greece and not in 

Thebes. 
Pol. No savage beast so cruell nor unjust. 560 
Eteo. Not cruel to my countrie like to thee. 
Po/. Since from my right I am with wrong 

deprived. 
Eteo. Eke from thy life, if long thou tarie here. 
Po/. O father, heare what injuries I take ! 
Eteo, As though thy divelishe deedes were hid 

from him. 565 

Po/. And you, mother ! 

Eteo. Have done : thou not deservest 

With that false tong thy mother once to name. 
Po/. O deare citie ! 

Eteo. When thou arivest in Greece, 

Chuse out thy dwelling in some mustie moores. 

557 c am u me for to dri-ve. MS., comest me to dryve. Qi, 
earnest me to drive. 



242 ^tOCafi?Ca [Act II. 

Pol. lo mi diparto, e nel partirmi, io lodo, 535 
Madre, il vostro buon animo. 

Gio. Ah, figliuolo. 

Eteo. Esci oggimai della Citta. 

Pol. Non posso 

Non obbedirti a questa volta. Bene 
Ti.vo' pregar che mi conceda ch' io 
Vegga mio padre. 

Eteo. Io non ascolto preghi 540 

Del mio nemico. 

Pol. Ove son le mie care 

Dolci sorelle ? 

Eteo. Come puoi nomarle, 

Sendo di tutta Tebe oste comune ? 
Sappi che non avrai grazia giammai 
Di veder quelle, e nessun altro amico. 545 

Pol. Rimanetevi in pace, o cara madre. 

Gio. Come poss' io senza di te, figliuolo ?. . . 

Pol. Omai piu non son io vostro figliuolo. 

Gio. Lassa, ch' ad ogni mal creommi il 
Cielo. 

Pol. La cagion e costui che si m' offende. 550 

Eteo. Via maggior e V ingiuria ch' ei mi face. 



Scene I.] 3IOCa0ta 243 

Pol. I must departe, and parting must I prayse,57o 
Oh deare mother, the depth of your good will. 

Joe. O Sonne ! 

Eteo. Away, I say, out of these walls. 

Pol. I can not chuse but must thy will obey. 
Yet graunt me once my father for to see. 

Eteo. I heare no prayers of my enemie. 575 

Pol. Where be my sweete sisters ? 

Eteo. And canst thou yet 

With shamelesse tong once name thy noble race 
That art become a common foe to Thebes? 
Be sure thou shall them never see againe, 
Nor other friend that in these walls remaine. 580 

Pol. Rest you in peace, O worthy mother 



m 



yne 



Joe. Howe can that be, and thou, my joye, in 

warre ? 
Pol. Henceforth n'am I your joy ne yet your 

Sonne. 
Joe. Alas, the heavens me whelme with all 

mishap. 
Pol. Lo, here the cause that stirreth me by 

wrong. ^g^ 

Eteo. Much more is that he profereth unto 



573 tvill. MS., voice. 579 shall. MS., Qi, Q3, shalL 

580 remaine. MS., remaynes. 

583 n''am I. MS., ne I corrected later to I nam. 



244 ^iocafifta [act ii. 

Pol. Dimmi se verrai fuor con 1' armi in 

mano. 
Eteo. lo verro, si : perche dimandi questo ? 
Pol. Perche conviene,o che m' ancidi,o ch' io 
Spenga la sete mia dentro il tuo sangue. 555 

Eteo. Certo non minor sete e nel mio core. 
Gio. Misera me, che e quel ch' intendo, o 

figii ? 

Com' esser puo, com* esser puo, figliuoli, 
Ch' entri cotanta rabbia in due fratelli ? 

Eteo. Ve lo dimostrera tosto 1' efFetto. 560 

Gio. Ah, non dite cosi, non dite, o figli. 

Pol. Tutta perisca omai la Real casa. 

Coro. Lo cessi Dio. 

Eteo. Ah, troppo lento sdegno : 

Perche dimoro a insanguinar cotesta ? . . . 
Ma, per minor suo mal, vo' dipartirmi, 565 

E ritornando, s' io vel trovo, allora 
A si gravi litigi io porro fine. 

Pol. Cari miei Cittadini, e voi, del Cielo 



Scene L] 3|OCa0ta 245 

Pol. Well, speake ; darest thou come armed to 

the fielde ? 
Eteo, So dare I come ; wherfore dost thou 

demaunde ? 
Pol, For needs or thou must ende this life of 
mine, 
Or quenche my thirst with pouring out thy 

bloud. 590 

Eteo. Ah, wretch, my thirst is all as drie as 

thine. 
yoc. Alas and welaway, what heare I, sonnes ? 
How can it be ? deare children, can it be 
That brethrens heartes such rancour should en- 
rage ? 
Eteo. And that right soone the proofe shall 

playnely shew. 595 

yoc. Oh, say not so, yet say not so, deare 

sonnes ! 
Pol. O royal race of Thebes, now take thine 

ende ! 
Cho. God shield ! 

Eteo. O, slow and sluggish heart of mine. 
Why do I stay t'embrew these slothfull hands ? 
But for his greater griefe I will departe, 600 

And at returne, if here I finde my foe. 
This hastie hande shall ende our hote debate. 

Eteocles here goeth out by the gates Electne. 
Pol. Deare citizens, and you eternall gods, 



246 ^iOta0ta [Act II. 

Eterni Dei, fatemi fede al mondo 

Come questo mio fiero, empio nemico, 570 

Che mio fratello indegnamente chiamo, 

Con minacce di morte oggi mi scaccia 

Delia mia patria ; non come d' Edipo 

Figliuoi, ma come servo abbietto e vile. 

E perche sete ognor pietosi e giusti ; 575 

Fate che, come or mi diparto mesto, 

Cosi ritorni con le spoglie allegro 

Di questo empio Tiranno ; e spento lui 

Goda i paterni ben, tranquillo e lieto. 

Gio. O misera Giocasta, ove si trova 580 

Miseria ch' alia tua sen vada eguale ? 
Deh, foss' io priva di questi occhi, e priva 
Di queste orecchie, oime, per non vedere, 
Et udir quel ch' udir e veder temo. 
Ma che mi resta piii, se non pregare 585 

II dolor che mi sia tanto cortese, 
Che mi tolga di vita, avanti ch' io 
Intenda nuova, ch' a pensar mi strugge. 
Donne, restate fuor, pregate i Dei 
Per la salute vostra ; ch' io fra tanto 590 

Mi chiudo in parte ove non vegga luce. 



Scene I.] 31OCa0ta 247 

Beare witnesse with me here before the worlde, 
How this my fierce and cruell enimie, 605 

Whom causelesse now my brother I do call, 
With threates of death my lingring steps doth 

drive 
Both from my right and from my countrey soyle, 
Not as beseemes the sonne of Oedipus, 
But as a slave, an abject, or a wretche : 610 

And since you be both pitifull and juste, 
Vouchsafe, O gods, that as I part with griefe. 
So may I yet returne with joyfull spoyle 
Of this accursed tyraunt, and (he slayne) 
I may recover quietly mine owne. 615 

Polinice goeth out by the gates Homoloides. 
Joe. O wretched wretch Jocasta, wher is 

founde 
The miserie that may compare to thine ? 
O, would I had nor gasing eyes to see. 
Nor listning eares to heare that now I dread ! 
But what remaines, save onely to entreate 620 

That cruell dole wold yet so curteous be 
To reave the breath out of this wofull brest. 
Before I harken to some wofull newes. 
Rest you here, dames, and pray unto the gods 
For our redresse, and I in that meane while 625 
Will shut my selfe from sight of lothsome light. 
Jocasta goeth into hir pallace. 

623 ivofull. MS., wery. 



248 ^ioca0ta [act ii. 

Coro. Santo Rettor di Tebe, omai ti muovi 
A pieta di Giocasta, e di noi stesse : 
Vedi, Bacco, il bisogno, ascolta i nostri 
Onesti preghi : non lasciar, o Padre, 595 

Ch' abbandonato sia ch' in te si fida. 
Noi dar non ti possiamo argento et oro, 
Ne vittime dovute a questi altari, 
Ma in vece lor ti consacriamo i cuori. 

[ScENA 2] 

Eteocky Creonte. 

Eteocle, Poiche '1 nimico mio m 'ho tolto in- 
nanzi, 
Util sara ch' io mandi per Creonte, 
Di mia madre fratello, acciocch' io possa 
Regionar seco, e conferir insieme 
Di quanto accade alia difesa nostra, 5 

Pria che s' esca di fuori alia battaglia : 
Ma di questo pensier esso mi toglie, 
Ch' a gran fretta ne vien verso il palazzo. 



Scene II.] 3|0CaS?ta 249 

Cho. O mightie god, the governour of Thebes, 
Pitie with speede the payne Jocasta bydes. 
And eke our needes, O mightie Bacchus, helpe ! 
Bende willing eare unto our just complaint ! 630 
Leave them not comfortlesse that trust in thee ! 
We have no golde nor silver thee to give, 
Ne sacrifice to those thine aultars due. 
In steede wherof we consecrate our harts 
To serve thy will, and hestes for to obey. 

Whiles the Chorus is thus praying to Bacchus ^ 
Eteocles returneth by the gates called 
Electra. 



ScENA 2. Actus 2. 

Eteocles y Creon. 

Eteocles, Since I have ridde mine enmie out 
of sight. 
The best shall be for Creon now to sende. 
My mothers brother, that with him I may 
Reason, consulte, conferre and counsell bothe. 
What shall be best to use in our defence, 
Before we venter forth into the fielde. 
But of this travayle, loe, he me acquites. 
That comes in haste towards these royall towres. 
Here Creon , attended by foure gentlemen y 
commeth in by the gates Homoloydes. 

632 no. Qi, nor. 

633 thoie. MS., these. 



250 ^ioca0ta [acth. 

Creonte. Re, non senza cagion vengo a tro- 
varti, 
E son per lungo spazio ito cercando lo 

La tua persona, per usar anch' io 
Queir officio ch' io debbo in consigliarti. 

Eteo. Certo gran desiderio aveva anch' io 
D' esser teco, Creonte; poich' indarno 
£ gita la fatica di mia madre 15 

Di riconciliarmi a Polinice; 
Che fu talmente d' intelletto privo, 
Che si penso che per vilta devessi 
Condurmi a tal, ch' io gli cedessi il Regno. 

Cre. Ho inteso che 1' esercito che seco 20 

Ha condotto il rubel contra di noi 
£ tal, ch' io mi diffido che le forze 
Delia Citta sien atte a sostenerlo. 
E ver ch' e la ragion dal canto nostro, 
Che spesse volte la vittoria apporta; 25 

Che noi, per conservar la patria nostra, 
L' arme prendemmo, et ei per soggiogarla: 
Ma quel per cui son mosso a parlar teco 
£ di maggior momento, e assai piu importa. 

Eteo. Questo ch' e? lo mi racconta tosto. 3° 
Cre. M' e venuto alle man certo prigione . . , 
Eteo. E che die' egli che cotanto importi? 

II per usar ancK" io. Changed in '* Printers' Errors" of O to 
ancho'io -vuol dire in parte. 



Scene II.] 3|OCa0ta 25 1 

Creon. O mightie king, not causelesse nowe 
I come 
To finde, that long have sought, your maiestie : 10 
So to discharge the duetie that I owe 
To you by comforte and by counsell bothe. 

Eteo. No lesse desire this harte of mine did 
presse. 
To send for thee, Creon, since that in vaine 
My mother hath hir words and travayle spent 15 
To reconcile Polynices and me ; 
For he (so dull was his capacitie) 
Did thinke he could by dread of daunger winne 
My princely heart to yeeld to him his realme. 

Cre. I understande, the armie that he brings ^o 
Agaynst these walles is such, that I me doubte 
Our cities force may scarce the same resist. 
Yet true it is, that right and reason both 
Are on our side, which bring the victorie 
Oftetimes ; for we our countrey to defend, 25 

They to subdue the same in armes are come. 
But what I would unto your highnesse shewe 
Is of more weight, and more behoves to know. 

Eteo. And what is that ? oh, quickly tell it me. 

Cre. A Greeke prisner is come unto my hands. 30 

Eteo. And what sayth he that doth so much 
impojfte ? 

19 hii. MS., Qi, this. 



252 <Sioca0ta [act h. 

Cre. Che gia sono i soldati a schiera a schiera 
Divisi, e voglion dar 1' assalto a Tebe. 

Eteo. Dunque bisogna far che la Cittade 35 

Sia tutta in arme, per uscir di Fuora. 

Cre. Re, 1' eta giovenil, che poco vede, 
(E mi perdona) a te non lascia bene 
Discerner quel che si conviene a questo: 
Perocche la prudenza, ch' e reina 40 

Deir opre umane, solamente nasce 
Da iunga esperienza; che non puote, 
Ne puo trovarsi in poco spazio d' anni. 

Eteo. Come non e pensier saggio, e prudente 
A porci a fronte co i nemici avanti 45 

Che prendono piu spazio di campagna, 
E a tutta la Citta diano 1' assalto ? 

Cre. Pochi in numero siamo, ed ei son molti. 

Eteo. I nostri son miglior di forze, a d' armi. 

Cre. Questo io non so, ne m' assicuro a dirlo. 50 

Eteo. Vedrai quant' io ne mandero sotterra. 

Cre. Caro io 1' avrei, ma gran fatica fia. 

Eteo. Io non terro le genti entro le mura. 

42-43 che non puote y ne puo. In ** Printers' Errors" of O, 
che non suole. 

46 prendono. O, prendano. 



Scene II.] 3|OCa0ta 253 

Cre. That even alredy [be] their ranks in raye, 
And streight will give assault to these our walles. 
Eteo. Then must I streight prepare our citi- 
zens 
In glittring arms to march into the fielde. 35 

Cre. O prince (and pardon me), thy youth- 
full yers 
Nor see them selfe, ne let thee once discerne 
What best behoveth in this doubtfull case. 
"• For prudence, she that is the mightie queene 
Of all good workes, growes by experience, 4° 

Which is not founde with i^wQ dayes seeking 
for. 
Eteo. And were not this both sounde and wise 
advise, 
Boldly to looke our foemen in the face. 
Before they spred our fields with hugie hoste. 
And all the towne beset by siege at once ? 45 

Cre. We be but few, and they in number great. 
Eteo. Our men have yet more courage farre 

than they. 
Cre. That know I not, nor am I sure to say. 
Eteo. Those eyes of thine in little space shall 
see 
How many I my selfe can bring to grounde. 50 
Cre. That would I like, but harde it is to doe. 
Eteo. I nill penne up our men within the 
walles. 

32 be. So in MS., Qi, Q3. Q2, by. 



254 €^ioca0ta [act ii. 

Cre. II vincer posto e nei consigli buoni. 
Eteo. Dunque tu vuoi ch' io ordisca altri dl- 

segni? ^ 55 

Cre. Si, pria che ponghi ogni tua cosa a risco. 
Eteo. Faro la notte un improvviso assalto. 
Cre. Esser potria che ritornasti addietro. 
Eteo. II vantaggio mai sempre e di chi assalta. 
Cre. II combatter di notte e gran periglio. 60 
Eteo. Gli assaltero di mezzo alle vivande. 
Cre. Spaventa certo un improvviso assalto, 
M' a noi vincer bisogna. 

Eteo. Vinceremo. 

Cre. Non gia, se non troviamo altro consigiio. 
Eteo. Combatteremo gli steccati loro. 65 

Cre. Quasi ch' alcun non abbia a far difesa. 
Eteo. Lasciero dunque la Citta ai nemici? 
Cre. Non gia: ma, essendo savio, or ti con- 

siglia. 
Eteo. Questo e tuo officio, che pid intendi e 

sai. 
Cre, Diro quel ch' a me par che piij ci giovi. 70 

58 ritornasti. O, ri tornasse. 



Scene IL] 3f|OCa6^ta 255 

Cre. In counsel! yet the victorie consistes. 
Eteo. And wilt thou then I use some other 

reade ? 
Cre. What else ? be still a while, for hast 

makes wast. 55 

Eteo. By night I will the cammassado give. 
Cre. So may you do, and take the overthrowe. 
Eteo. The vauntage is to him that doth assaulte. 
Cre. Yet skirmishe given by night is perillous. 
Eteo. Let set upon them as they sit at meat? 60 
Cre. Sodayne assaults affray the minde, no 

doubt ; 
But we had neede to overcome. 

Eteo. So shall we do. 

Cre. No, sure, unlesse some other counsell 

helpe. 
Eteo. Amid their trenches shall we them in- 
vade ? 
Cre. As who should say, were none to make 

defence. 65 

Eteo. Should I, then, yeeld the citie to my 

foes ? 
Cre. No ; but advise you well if you be wise. 
Eteo. That were thy parte, that knowest more 

than I. 
Cre. Then shall I say that best doth seeme 

to me ? 

60 Let. Q3, Lets. 62 to o'vercome. MS. omits ro. 



256 ^ioca^ta [act ii. 

Eteo, Ogni consiglio tuo terro migliore. 
Cre. Essi hanno eletto sette uomini illustri. 
Eteo. Questo numero e poco a tanta impresa. 
Cre. Gli hanno eletti per Duci, e Capitani 
Eteo. Dell' esercito lor? questo non basta. 75 
Cre. Anco per espugnar le sette porte. 
Eteo. Che dunque far convienci a tal bisogno ? 
Cre. Altrettanti anche tu gli opponi a fronte. 
Eteo. Dando in governo lor le genti nostre ? 
Cre. E scegliendo i miglior che sono in Tebe. 80 
Eteo. Perch' io difender possa la cittade ? 
Cre. Con gli altri, perche un sol non vede il 

tutto. 
Eteo. Vuoi ch' io scelga i piij forti, o i piu 

prudenti ? 
Cre. Ambi, che, tolto 1' un, 1' altro perisce. 
Eteo. Dunque forza non val senza prudenza? 85 



Scene II.] 3IOCa0ta 257 

Eteo. Yea, Creon, yea ; thy counsell holde I 

deare. 7° 

Ore. Seven men of courage have they chosen 

out. 
Eteo. A slender number for so great emprise. 
Cre. But they them chose for guides and 

capitaynes. 
Eteo. To such an hoste .? why, they may not 

suffise. 
Cre. Nay, to assault the seven gates of the 

citie. 75 

Eteo. What then behoveth, so bestad, to 

done .'' 
Cre. With equall number see you do them 

match. 
Eteo. And then commit our men in charge 

' to them .? 
Cre. Chusing the best and boldest blouds in 

Thebes. 
Eteo. And how shall I the citie then defende ^ 80 
Cre. Well, with the rest ; for one man sees 

not all. 
Eteo. And shall I chuse the boldest or the 

wisest .? 
Cre. Nay, both ; for one without that other 

fayles. 
Eteo. " Force without wisedome, then, is little 

worth." 



258 ^iocasfta [act h. 

Cre. Convien che questa sia congiunta a 
quella. 

Eteo. Creonte, io vo* seguir il tuo consiglio; 
Ch' io lo tengo fedel, quanto prudente, 
E mi dipartiro con tua licenza, 
Acciocch' io possa provveder a tempo, 9° 

Ne fuor di man 1' occasion mi fugga 
E di prender, e uccider Polinice; 
Che ben debbo cercar d' uccider quello 
Ch' e venuto a guastar la patria mia. 
Ma, se piacesse alia fortuna, e al fato 95 

Ch' altrimenti avvenisse ch' io disegno, 
A te di procurar resta le nozze 
Di mia sorella Antigone col tuo 
Caro figliuol Emone ; a cui per dote 
In questa mia partita afFermo quanto " 

Ti promisi poc' anzi. Tu fratello 
Sei della madre mia : non mi bisogna 
Che '1 governo di lei ti raccomandi. 
Del padre non mi cale : e, s' egli avviene 
Ch' io muoia, potrai dir che le sue fiere 105 

Maladizion m' abbiano ucciso e morto. 

Cre, Questo lo tolga Dio ; che non e degno. 

Eteo, Del Dominio di Tebe altro non debbo, 
Ne conviensi ordinary perocche questo, 



Scene IL] 31OCa0ta 259 

Cre. That one must be fast to that other 
joynde. 85 

Eteo. Creon, I will thy counsell follow still, 
For why I holde it wise and trusty both, 
And out of hand for now I will departe. 
That I in time the better may provide. 
Before occasion slip out of my hands, 90 

And that I may this Polynices (*) quell : KyU. 

For well may I with bloudy knife him slea 
That comes in armes my countrie for to spoyle. 
But if so please to fortune and to fate 
That other ende than I do thinke may fall, 95 

To thee, my frend, it resteth to procure 
The mariage twixt my sister Antygone 
And thy deare sonne H^emone, to whom for 

dowre. 
At parting thus, I promise to performe 
As much as late I did (*) beheste to thee : Promisse. 
My mothers bloude and brother deare thou arte, 
Ne neede I crave of thee to gard hir well ; 
As for my father care I not, for if 
So chaunce I dye, it may full well be sayd 
His bitter curses brought me to my bane. 105 

Cre. The Lord defend, for that unworthy 
were. 

Eteo. Of Thebes towne the rule and scepter, 
loe, 
I neede nor ought it otherwise dispose 



260 €^tOCaS?ta [Act II. 

Morend' io senza figll, a te ricade. i lo 

Ben caro mi saria d' intender quale 

Succeder debba il fin di questa guerra. 

Pero vo' che tu mandi il tuo figliuolo 

Per Tiresia indovin, ch' a te ne venga; 

Che ben so che venir per nome mio 115 

Non vorrebb' egli, perche alcune volte 

Vituperai quell' arte, e lo ripresi, 

Ore. Cio faro come brami, e come io debbo. 

Eteo. A te nel fine, e alia Citta comando 
Che, se fortuna, a' desir nostri arnica, 120 

Vincitrici fara le genti nostre ; 
Alcun non sia che seppellir ardisca 
Di Polinice il corpo : e chi di questa 
Mia legge temerario uscira fuori, 
Sia levato di vita immantenente ; 125 

Quantunque fosse a lui giunto per sangue. 
Ora io mi parto, e ne verra con meco 
La giustizia, ch' innanzi a' passi miei 
Vittoriosa andra per scorta e duce. 
Voi supplicate Giove che difenda 130 

La Citta nostra, e la conservi ogn' ora. 

Cre. Ti ringrazio, Eteocle, dell' amore 
Che mi dimostri : e, se avvenisse quello 
Ch' io non vorrei ; ben ti prometto ch' io 
In tal caso farei quanto conviensi : 135 



Scene n.] ^OCa^ta 26 1 

Than unto thee, if I dye without heyre. 

Yet longs my lingring mynde to understand "o 

The doubtfull ende of this unhappie warre : 

Wherfore I will thou send thy sonne to seke 

Tyresias the devine, and learne of him ; 

For at my call I knowe he will not come, 

That often have his artes and him reprovde. "S 

Cre. As you commaund, so ought I to per- 
forme. 

Eteo. And last, I thee and citie both com- 
maund, 
If fortune frendly favour our attemptes. 
And make our men triumphant victors all, 
That none there be so hardie ne so bolde "o 

For Polynices bones to give a grave ; 
And who presumes to breake my heste herein, 
Shall dye the death in penaunce of his paine ; 
For though I were by bloud to him conjoynde, 
I part it now, and justice goeth with me i*S 

To guide my steppes victoriously before. 
Pray you to Jove he deigne for to defende 
Our citie safe, both now and evermore. 

Cre. Gramercie, worthie prince, for all thy 
love 
And faithfull trust thou doest in me repose, ^Z^ 
And if should hap that I hope never shall, 
I promise yet to doe what best behoves. 
But chieflie this I sweare and make a vowe. 



262 (Siocas?ta [act ii. 

E sopra tutto ti prometto e giuro 
Di Polinice, a noi crudel nemico. 



CORO. 

Fero, e dannoso Dio, ^ 

Che sol di sangue godi, 

E volgi spesso sottosopra il mondo ; 

Perche, crudele e rio, 

Turbi la pace, et odi 5 

Lo stato altrui tranquil, lieto, e giocondo ? 

Perche, empio e furibondo. 

Col ferro urti e percuoti 

La Cittade innocente 

Di quel giusto e possente lo 

Dio che n' ingombra il cor de' suoi divoti 

Di contento e di gioia, 

E scaccia di quaggiu tormento e noia ? 

Padre di guerre e morti ; 
Che spesso i cari pegni 15 

Togli air afflitte madri, orrido e strano j 
Spenga Venere i torti 
Tuoi, gravi, aspri disdegni, 
E ti faccia cader 1' armi di mano. 



Scene II.] 31OCa0ta 263 

For Polynices nowe our cruell foe 

To holde the best that thou doest me com- 

maunde. 135 

Creon attendeth Eteocles to the gates Elec- 
trte ; he returneth, and goeth out by the 
gates called Homoloydes. 

Chorus. 

O fierce and furious Mars, whose harmefull 

harte 
Rejoyceth most to shed the giltlesse blood, 
Whose headie wil doth all the world subvert, 
And doth envie the pleasant mery moode 
Of our estate, that erst in quiet stoode, 5 

Why doest thou thus our harmelesse towne 

annoye, 
Which mightie Bacchus governed in joye ? 

Father of warre and death, that dost remove 
With wrathfull wrecke from wofull mothers 

breast 
The trustie pledges of their tender love, 10 

So graunt the gods, that for our finall rest 
Dame Venus pleasant lookes may please thee ^ 

best ; 
Wherby, when thou shalt all amazed stand. 
The sword may fall out of thy trembling hand. 

I Man. MS., Qi, God. 



264 ^ioca0ta [act h. 

Non siano sparsi in vano 20 

I nostri preghi onesti : 
Rivolgi, Marte, altrove 
Le sanguinose prove 

Deir asta tua, con cui risvegli e desti 

L' empie furie d' Averno, 25 

Per far dell' alme altrui ricco V inferno. 

Teco ne venga ancora, 
Lasciando i nostri campi, 
Cinta di Serpi la discordia fiera, 
Che fa che ad ora ad ora 3° 

Deir uman sangue stampi 
La terra, e '1 buono indegnamente pera. 
La pace alma e sincera 
Ritorni onde e partita ; 

E fugga omai del core 35 

L' odio grave, e '1 furore, 
Che velenoso, a crudel guerra invita, 
(E ragion turba e guasta) 

II figliuolo d' Edipo, e di Giocasta. 

29 Jiera. O, altera. 



Chorus.] 31OCa0ta 265 

And thou maist prove some other way full 
well '5 

The bloudie prowesse of thy mightie speare, 
Wherwith thou raisest from the depth of hell 
The wrathfull sprites of all the furies there 
Who, when [they wake], doe wander every- 
where. 
And never rest to range about the coastes, 20 

Tenriche that pit with spoile of damned ghostes. 

And when thou hast our fieldes forsaken thus, 
Let cruell discorde beare thee companie. 
Engirt with snakes and serpents venemous. 
Even she that can with red virmilion dye 25 

The gladsome greene that florisht pleasantly. 
And make the greedie ground a drinking cup 
To sup the bloud of murdered bodyes up. 

Yet thou returne, O joye and pleasant peace. 
From whence thou didst against our wil depart, 3© 
Ne let thy worthie minde from travell cease. 
To chase disdaine out of the poysned harte. 
That raised warre to all our paynes and smarte, 
Even from the brest of Oedipus his sonne. 
Whose swelling pride hath all this Jarre be- 

gonne. 35 

19 they wake. So in MS., Qi and Q3. Q2, the weake. 



266 ^ioca0ta ' [actii. 

Tu, che r Ciel tempri e reggi, 40 

E quanto qui si mira 
Con decreto fatal leghi e disponi ; 
Onde corone e seggi, 
Or pietoso, or con ira, 

Siccome piace a te, spezzi, e componi ; 45 

Cagion delle cagioni, 
Onde ogni cosa pende, 
Non guardar al peccato 
Del tuo popolo ingrato ; 

Che quanto e il tuo poter non ben comprende: 56 
Ma riguarda all' amore 
Che gia ti mosse esser di noi fattore. 

E che possiam noi miseri mortal! 
Nei casi iniqui e rei 
Altro che dimandar soccorso ai Dei ? 55 



Chorus.] 3lOCa0ta 267 

And thou, great god, that doest all things 
decree. 
And sitst on highe above the starrie skies, 
Thou chiefest cause of causes all that bee, 
Regard not his offence, but heare our cries, 
And spedily redresse our miseries, 40 

For what [can] we poore wofull wretches doe 
But crave thy aide, and onely cleave therto? 

41 can. So in MS. and Qi. Q2, Q3, cause. 



Finis Actus secundi. 
Done by G. Gascoygne. 



The order of the thirde 
dumbe shewe 

Before the beginning of this iii Act did sound 
a very dolefull noise of cornettes, during the 
which there opened and appeared in the stage 
a great gulfe. Immediatly came in vi gentlemen 
in their dublets and hose, bringing upon their 5 
shulders baskets full of earth, and threwe them 
into the gulfe to fill it up, but it would not so 
close up nor be filled. Then came the ladyes 
and dames that stoode by, throwing in their 
cheynes and jewels, so to cause it stoppe up and lo 
close it selfe : but when it would not so be 
filled, came in a knighte with his sword drawen, 
armed at all poyntes, who walking twise or 
thrise about it, and perusing it, seing that it 
would nether be filled with earth nor with their 15 
Jewells and ornaments, after solempne reverence 
done to the gods, and curteous leave taken of 
the ladyes and standers by, sodeinly lepte into 
the gulfe, the which did close up immediatly : 
betokning unto us the love that every worthy 20 
person oweth unto his native countrie, by the 
historye of Curtius, who for the lyke cause ad- 



®t)e ott>tv of t^t ttiirD Dumbe ^tietoe 269 

ventured the like in Rome. This done, blinde 
Tyresias, the divine prophete, led in by hys 
daughter, and conducted by Meneceus, the son 25 
of Creon, entreth by the gates Electrae, and 
sayth as followeth. 



Atto Terzo 

[SCENA I.] 

Tiresidy Creonte, MantOy Meneceo. 

Tiresia^ O d' ogni mio cammin fidata scorta, 
Andiamo, figlia, e tu mi guida e reggi ; 
Che dal di ch' io restai privo di luce 
Tu sola il lume di quest' occhi sei : 
E perche, come sai, per esser vecchio, 5 

Debile io sono, e di riposo amico ; 
Indrizza i passi per [la] piu plana via, 
Tal che men dell' andar senta 1' afFanno. 
Tu, gentil Meneceo, dimmi se manca 
Lungo viaggio a pervenir la dove 10 

II padre tuo la mia venuta aspetta ; 
Che qual tarda testudine, traendo 
Con fatica, o figliuol, 1' antico fianco, 
Benche pronto e '1 desio, mi movo appena. 

Creonte. Confortati, Indovin, ch' il tuo 
Creonte 15 

E qui dinanzi, e t' e venuto incontra, 

7 la, O, D, omit. 



Actus iii. Scena i. 
Tyresiasy Creon, Manto, Meneceus, Sacerdos. 

[^Tyresias.'J Thou trustie guide of my so trust- 

lesse steppes, 
Deer daughter mine, go we, lead thou the way, 
For since the day I first did leese this light, 
Thou only art the light of these mine eyes : 
And for thou knowst I am both old and weake, 
And ever longing after lovely rest. 
Direct my steppes amyd the playnest pathes, 
That so my febled feete may feele lesse paine. 
Meneceus, thou gentle childe, tell me. 
Is it farre hence, the place where we must goe, 
Where as thy father for my comming stayes ? 
For like unto the slouthfull snayle I drawe 
(Deare sonne) with paine these aged legges of 

mine, 

CreoTi returneth by the gates Homoloydes. 
And though my minde be quicke, scarce can I 

move. 
Creon. Comfort thy selfe, devine, Creon thy 

frend, 
Loe, standeth here, and came to meete with thee 

Cre*n. . . . Homoloydes. MS. puts stage-direction after line 14 
instead of before it. 



15 



272 ^iocas?ta [act m. 

Per levarti la noia del cammino ; 

Ch' alia vecchiezza ogni fatica e grave. 

Tu, di lui figlia, che pietosa il guidi, 

Or qui lo ferma : e volentieri in tanto ao 

Quella vergine man che lo sostiene 

II suo debito e onesto officio porga ; 

Perocche questa eta canuta e bianca 

Delle mani d* altrui ricerca appoggio. 

Tire. Ti ringrazio, son qui, di' quel che vuoi. 25 
Cre. Quel ch' io voglio da te, Tiresia, e cosa 

Da non uscir di mente cosi tosto : 

Ma riposati alquanto, e pria ristora 

In camminar gli afFaticati spirti. 

Ma che vuol dir quella corona d' ore 3° 

Ch' ora, a guisa di Re, t' orna la testa ? 

Tire. Sappi che V aver io col mio consiglio 

Dianzi insegnato ai Cittadin d' Atene 

Come ottener poteano facilmente 

Certa vittoria de' nemici loro 35 

Cagion delF ornamento e che tu vedi ; 



Scene I] 31Ota0ta 273 

To ease the paine that thou mightst else sus- 

talne, 
" For unto elde eche travell yeldes an- 

j, Age must 

I^oy- . . be helped 

And thou, his daughter and his faithful by youth. 

guide, 
Loe, rest him here, and rest thou therewithall 20 
Thy virgins hands, that in sustayning him 
Doest well acquite the duetie of a childe. 
" For crooked age and hory silver heares 
Still craveth helpe of lustie youthfull yeares." 
Tyr. Gramercie, Lorde, what is your noble 

will ? ^5 

Ore, What I would have of thee, Tyresias, 
Is not a thing so soone for to be sayde, 
But rest a whyle thy weake and weary limmes, 
And take some breath now after wearie walke, 
And tell, I pray thee, what this crowne doth 

meane, 30 

That sits so kingly on thy skilfull heade ? 

Tyr. Know this, that for I did with grave 
advise 
Foretell the citizens of Athens towne. 
How they might best with losse of litle bloude 
Have victories against their enimies, 3^ 

Hath bene the cause why I doe weare this 
crowne, 

1 8 elde eche. Q3, olde age. 35 victortes. MS., victory. 



2 74 ^ioca^ta [acthi. 

Premio alia fede mia non forse indegno. 

Cre. Questa vittoriosa tua corona 
De' casi nostri a buon augurio prendo ; 
Che come sai, per la discordia fiera 40 

Di quest! due fratelli, a gran periglio 
Or tutta la Citta di Tebe e posta. 
Eteocle nostro Re, coperto d' arme 
£ gito contra le nemiche schiere ; 
Et ammi imposto che da te, che sei 45 

Vero indovin delle future cose, 
Intenda quel che si de' far da noi 
Tutti, per conservar la patria nostra. 

Tire. Per cagion d' Eteocle molti mesi 
Chiudendo per timor la bocca, ogn* ora 50 

Rimasi in Tebe di predir il vero. 
Ma poiche tu mi chiedi il gran bisogno 
Ch* io t' apra il vel delle celate cose 
A ben universal della Cittade, 

Son contento di far quanto ti piace. 55 

Ma prima e di mestier ch' al vostro Dio 
Ora si faccia sacrificio degno 
Del piii bel capro che si trovi in Tebe ; 
Dentro gli exti di cui guardando bene 
II Sacerdote, e riferendo come 60 



Scene I.] 3l0Cafi?ta 275 

As right rewarde and not unmeete for me. 

Cre. So take I then this thy victorious crowne 
For our availe in token of good lucke, 
That knowest how the discord and debate, 40 

Which late is fallen betwene these brethren 

twaine, 
Hath brought all Thebes in daunger and in 

dreade. 
Eteocles, our king, with threatning armes 
Is gone against his Greekish enimies, 
Commaunding me to learne of thee, who arte 45 
A true divine of things that be to come. 
What were for us the safest to be done 
From perill now our countrey to preserve. 
Tyr. Long have I bene within the towne of 

Thebes, 
Since that I tyed this trustie toung of mine 50 

From telling truth, fearing Eteocles : 
Yet, since thou doest in so great neede desire 
I should reveale things hidden unto thee 
For common cause of this our common weale, 
I stand content to pleasure thee herein. 55 

But first (that to this mightie god of yours 
There might some worthie sacrifice be made) 
Let kill the fairest goate that is in Thebes, 
Within whose bowelles when the preest shall 

loke, 

50 trustie. Q3 omits. 



276 ^iocasfta [act m. 

Gli trovera a me stesso ; io spero darti 
Di quanto far conviene avviso certo. 

Cre. II Tempio e qui ; ne fia che tardi molto 
Alia venuta il Sacerdote santo, 
E seco rechera la monda e bella 65 

Vittima che ricerchi : ch* io poco anzi, 
Ben cauto del costume che tu serbi. 
Ho mandato per lui ; Io qual, avendo 
Scelto il piu grasso d' infiniti capri, 
Gia s' era mosso. Or eccolo presente. 70 

Sacerdote. Pietosi Cittadin, ch' amate tanto 
La patria vostra, ecco, ch' io vengo a voi 
Lieto, per far il sacrificio usato ; 
Acciocche '1 Protettor della Cittade 
Or la difenda nel maggior bisogno, 75 

E torni pace ov' e discordia e guerra. 
Pero con V alma, e con 1' aspetto umile, 
Mentre ch' io svenero tacito a Bacco 
Questo animal che le sue viti ofFende, 



Scene!.] 31OCa0ta 277 

And tell to me what he hath there espyed, 60 

I trust t'advise thee what is best to doen. 

Cre. Lo, here the temple, and ere long I 
looke 
To see the holy preest that hither commes, 
Bringing with him the pure and faire ofFrings 
Which thou requirest : for not long since I sent 65 
For him, as one that am not ignorant 
Of all your rytes and sacred ceremonyes : 
He went to choose amid our herd of goates 
The fattest there: and loke where now he 
commes ! 
SacerdoSy accompanied with xvi Bacchanales 
atid all his rytes and ceremonies, entreth 
by the gates Homoloydes. 
Sacerdos. O famous citizens, that holde full 
deare 70 

Your quiet countrey, loe ! where I doe come 
Most joyfully with wonted sacrifice. 
So to beseeche the supreme citizens 
To stay our state that staggringly doth stand. 
And plant us peace, where warre and discord 

growes : 75 

Wherfore with hart devout and humble cheere, 
Whiles I breake up the bowels of this beast 
(That oft thy veneyarde, Bacchus, hath de- 
stroyed), 

76 hart. MS., harty. 



278 ^iocas^ta [act m. 

Ogn' un si volga a dimandar perdono 80 

Delle sue colpe intorno a questo altare 
Con le ginocchia riverenti e chine. 

Tire. Reca la salsa mola, e spargi d' essa 
II collo della bestia, il resto poni 
Nel sacro foco ; et ungi poi d' intorno 85 

II coltel destinato al sacrificio. 
Giove, conserva il prezioso dono 
Che mi facesti allor che la tua moglie, 
Per isdegno, mi tolse ambe le luci; 
E dammi che predir io possa il vero ; 90 

Che senza te ben so ch' io non potrei 
Ne voler, ne poter, ne aprir la bocca. 

Sac. Questo officio ho fornito. 

Tire. II capro svena. 

Sac. Tu, figlia di Tiresia, entro quel vaso 
Con le vergini man ricevi il sangue : 95 

Quinci divota V offerisci a Bacco. 

Manto. Santo di Tebe Dio, ch' apprezzi ed 
ami 
La pace, e sdegni di Bellona, e Marte 
I noiosi furor, le ingiurie, e 1' armi, 
Dator d' ogni salute, e d' ogni gioia, 100 



Scene I.] '^OCdi&tdi 279 

Let every wight crave pardon for his faults 
With bending knee about his aultars here. go 

Tyr. Take here the salt, and sprincle ther- 
withall 
About the necke : that done, cast all the rest 
Into the sacred fire, and then annoynte 
The knife prepared for the sacrifice. 
O mightie Jove, preserve the precious gifte 85 

That thou me gave, when first thine 

^ Venus made 

angrie Queene, him biynde 

For deepe disdayne, did both mine for giving 

eyes do out ! sentence 

Graunt me I may foretell the truth in 

this, 
For but by thee I know that I ne may, 
Ne wil, ne can, one trustie sentence say 90 

Sac. This due is done. 

Tyr. With knife then stick the kid. 

Sac. Thou daughter of devine Tyresias, 
With those unspotted virgins hands of thine 
Receive the bloude within this vessell here. 
And then devoutly it to Bacchus yelde. 95 

Manto. O holy god of Thebes, that doest 
both praise 
Swete peace, and doest in hart also disdayne 
The noysome noyse, the furies and the fight 
Of bloudie Mars and of Bellona both ! 
O thou the giver both of joy and health, 100 



28o ^ioca^ta [act m. 

Gradisci, o Bacco, e con pia man ricevi 

Questo debito a te sacro olocausto : 

E, come questa alma Citta t' adora ; 

Cosi per te, che lo puoi far, respiri, 

E da' nimici oltraggi illesa resti. 105 

Sac. Or col tuo santo nome apro col ferro 
La vittima. 

Tire. Mi di' siccome stanno 

L' interiora. 

Sac, Ben formate e belle 

Son per tutto. II fegato e puro, e '1 core 
Senza difetto : e ver ch' egli non ave no 

Piu ch* una fibra ; appresso cui si vede 
Un non so che, che par putrido e guasto ; 
II qual levando, ogn' intestino resta 
Intatto e sano. 

Tire. Or pon nel sacro foco 

Gli odoriferi incensi : indi m' avvisa 115 

Del color delle fiamme, e d' altre cose 
Convenienti a vaticinio vero. 

Sac. Veggo la fiamma di color diversi, 
Qual sanguigno, qual negro, e qual in parte 
Bigio, qual perso, e qual del tutto verde. 120 

Tire. Or basti questo aver veduto e inteso. 
Sappi, Creonte, che la bella forma 

120 -verde. Here the " Printers' Errors" of O add six lines 
which are also omitted in D : 

II verde ci denota alcuna speme 

Di conservar la nostra patria in piede : 



Scene 1.1 ^flOCaflfta 28 1 

Receive in gree and with well willing hand 
These holy whole brunt ofFrings unto thee : 
And as this towne doth wholy thee adore. 
So by thy helpe do graunt that it may stand 
Safe from the enimies outrage evermore. 105 

Sac, Now, in thy sacred name, I bowell here 
This sacrifice. 

Tyr. And what entrails hath it ? 

Sac. Faire and welformed all in every poynt : 
The liver cleane, the hart is not infect, 
Save, loe, I finde but onely one hart string, no 
By which I finde something, I wote nere what, 
That seemes corrupt ; and were not onely that, 
In all the rest they are both sound and hole. 

Tyr, Now cast at once into the holy flame 
The swete incense, and then advertise mee 115 
What hew it beares, and every other ryte 
That ought may helpe the truth for to conjecte. 

Sac. I see the flames do sundrie coulours cast. 
Now bloudy sanguine, straight way purple, 

blew. 
Some partes seeme blacke, some gray, and some 

be greene. 120 

Tyr. Stay there : sufFyseth this for to have 
scene ! 
Know, Creon, that these outward seemely signes 

III something. MS., somewhat. 
119 purple, bleiv. MS., purple blew. 



282 6ioca0ta [act m. 

Degli exti, appresso quel che mi dimostra 

II Signor che ogni cosa intende e vede, 

Dinota come la Citta di Tebe 125 

Contra gli Argivi vincitrice fia, 

Se avverra che consent! : ma non voglio 

Seguir piu avanti. 

Ore. Deh, per cortesia 

Segui, Tiresia, e non aver rispetto 
Ad uom che viva a raccontar il vero. 130 

Sac. In tanto me n' andro donde venuto 
r son, poiche non lice a' Sacerdoti 
Di trovarsi presenti a' detti vostri. 

Tire. Contra di quel ch' ho detto, il fero 
incesto, 
E '1 mostruoso parto di Giocasta 135 

Cotanto ha mosso in ciel 1' ira di Giove, 
Che innondera questa Citta di sangue ; 
Correra vincitor per tutto Marte 
Con fochi, uccision, rapine, e morti : 
Cadranno gli ediiici alti e superbi, 140 

II perso, e '1 bigio ci dimostra chiaro 
Di certissimi affanni aperto segno : 
II nero accompagnato col sanguigno 
Sangue minaccia, e morti atri e funesti. 



Scene L] ^OCa^ta 283 

(By that the gods have let me understand, 
Who know the truth of every secrete thing) 
Betoken that the citie great of Thebes 125 

Shall victor be against the Greekish host, 
If so consent be given : but more than this 
I lyst not say. 

Cre. Alas, for curtesie 

Say on, Tyresias, never have respect 
To any living man, but tell the truth. 130 

Sacerdos returneth with the Bacchanales, 
by the gates Homoloides. 
Sac. In this meane while I will returne with 
speede 
From whence I came : for lawfull is it not. 
That suche as I should heare your secresies. 
Tyr. Contrary then to that which I have 
sayde. 
The incest foule and childbirth monstruous 135 
Of Jocasta so stirres the wrath of Jove, 
This citie shall with bloudy channels swimme. 
And angry Mars shall overcome it all 
With famine, flame, rape, murther, dole and 

death : 
These lustie towres shall have a headlong fall, 140 

124 fVho . . . thing. MS. and Qi, Who understandith all, 
and seith secret things. 

125 Betoken. MS. and Qi, betokenith. great. MS. omits, 
133 secresies. Qi, secretnesse. 



284 ^ioca^ta [act iil 

E *n breve si dira: qui fu gia Tebe. 

Sola una strada alia salute io veggo ; 

M' a te non piacera, Creonte, udirla, 

Et a me forse il dir non fia sicuro. 

Pero mi parto, e t' accomando a Giove, 145 

Contento di patir con gli altri insieme 

Tutto quel ch' avverra di awersa sorte. 

Cre. Fermati, o vecchio. 

Tire. Non mi far, Creonte, 

Forza a restar, 

Cre, Perche mi fuggi ? 

Tire. Io certo 

Non ti fuggo, o Signor, ma la fortuna. 150 

Cre. Dimmi quel che bisogna alia salute 
Delia Citta. 

Tire. Creonte, or ben dimostri 

Desio di conservarla : ma dappoi 
Ch' inteso a pieno avrai quel che t' e ascoso, 
Non vorrai consentir a questo bene. 155 

Cre. Come poss' io non desiar mai sempre 
V utile e '1 ben della Citta di Tebe ? 

Tire. Dunque cerchi d' udir e intender come 
In breve spazio conservar la puoi ? 



Scene I.] 3|OCa0ta 285 

These houses burnde, and all the rest be razde ; 
And soone be sayde : " Here whilome Thebes 

stoode." 
One onely way I finde for to escape, 
Which bothe would thee displease to heare it 

tolde, 
And me to tell percase were perillous. 145 

Thee therfore with my travell I commende 
To Jove, and with the rest I will endure. 
What so shall chaunce for our adversitie. 

Cre. Yet stay a whyle. 

Tyr. Creon, make me not stay 

By force. 

Cre. Why fleest thou ? 

Tyr. Syr, tis not from thee 150 

I flee, but from this fortune foule and fell. 

Cre. Yet tell me what behoves the citie doe. 

Tyr. Thou, Creon, seemest now desirous still 
It to preserve : but if as well as I 
Thou knewest that which is to thee unknowne, 155 
Then wouldst thou not so soone consent thereto. 

Cre. And would not I with eagre minde de- 
sire 
The thing that may for Thebes ought avayle ? 

Tyr. And dost thou then so instantly request 
To know which way thou mayest the same 

preserve ? 160 



2 86 ^iocasfta [actih. 

Cre. Non per altra cagion mandai mio figlio 160 
A qui chiamarti. 

Tire. lo son, poiche tu brami, 

Per soddisfarti : ma mi di' se teco 
E Meneceo. 

Cre. Non t' e molto discosto. 

Tire. lo vorrei che '1 mandasti in altra parte. 

Cre. Per qual cagion non vuoi ch' ei sia 
presente ? ^65 

Tire. Non vo' ch' intenda le parole mie. 

Cre. Ei m' e figliuol, ne le fara palesi. 

Tire. Adunque io parlero, send' ei presente ? 

Cre. Sappi ch' egli, com'io, gode del bene 
Di Tebe nostra. 

Tire. Intenderai, Creonte, 170 

Che la via di salvar questa Cittade 
£ tal : convien che '1 tuo figliuolo uccidi ; 
Conven che per la patria del suo corpo 
Vittima facci : or ecco quel che cerchi 
Di saper : e dappoiche m' hai sforzato 175 

A dirti cosa ch' io tacer volea, 
S' ofFeso t' ho con le parole mie, 
Di te ti duol, e della tua fortuna. 



Scene L] 31OCa0Ca 287 

Cre. For nothing else I sent my sonne of 
late 
To seeke for thee. 

Tyr. Then will I satisiie 

Thy greedie minde in this : but first tell me, 
Menetius, where is he ? 

Cre. Not farre from me. 

Tyr. I pray thee sende him out some other 

where. 165 

Cre. Why wouldest thou that he should not 

be here ? 
Tyr. I would Jiot have him heare what I 

should say. 
Cre. He is my sonne, ne will he it reveale. 
Tyr. And shall I then, while he is present, 

speake ? 
Cre. Yea, be thou sure that he, no lesse than 1, 170 
Doth wishe full well unto this common weale. 
Tyr. Then, Creon, shalt thou knowe : the 
meane to save 
This citie is that thou shalt slea thy sonne. 
And of his bodie make a sacrifice 
For his countrey. Lo ! heere is all you seeke 175 
So much to knowe ; and since you have me 

forst 
To tell the thing that I would not have tolde, 
If I have you offended with my words. 
Blame then your selfe, and eke your frowarde 
fate. 



288 6tOCa0ta [Act III. 

Cre, Ah, parole crudeli ; oime, che hai detto, 
Mai accorto indovin ? 

Tire. Quel ch* ordinate i8o 

E su nel ciel e di mestier che segua. 

Cre. O quanti mali in poco spazio hai chiusi. 

Tire. Per te son mali, e per la patria beni. 

Cre. Pera la patria : io non consento a 
questo. 

Tire. La patria amar si de' sopra ogni cosa. 185 

Cre. E crudel chi non ama i suoi figliuoli. 

Tire. Per comun ben e ben che pianga un 
solo. 

Cre. Perdendo il mio, non vo' salvar V altrui. 

Tire. Non guarda all' util suo buon cittadino. 

Cre. Partiti omai coi vaticinii tuoi. ^9® 

Tire. Sempre la verita sdegno produce. 

Cre. Ti prego ben per quelle bianche chiome, 

Tire. II mal che vien dal Ciel non puo schi- 
farsi. 



Scene I.] 3(IOta0ta 289 

Cre. Oh cruel words ! oh ! oh ! what hast 

thou sayde, i8o 

Thou cruell sothsayer ? 

Tyr. Even that, that heaven 

Hath ordeined once, and needes it must ensue. 

Cre. How many evils hast thou knit up in 

one ! 
Tyr. Though evill for thee, yet for thy coun- 

trey good. 
Cre. And let my countrey perishe, what care 

I? 185 

Tyr. " Above all things we ought to holde it 

deare." 
Cre. Cruell were he that would not love his 

childe. 
Tyr. " For common weale were well that one 

man waile.'* 
Cre. To loose mine owne, I listc none other 

save. 
Tyr. " Best citizens care least for privat 

gayne." 190 

Cre. Depart for nowe with all thy prophecies. 
Tyr. " Lo, thus the truth doth alwayes hatred 

get." 
Cre. Yet pray I thee by these thy silver 

heares — 
Tyr. " The harme that commes from heaven 

can not be scapt." 



290 ^ioca^ta [act hi. 

Cre. E per quel sacro tuo verace spirto, 

Tire. lo non posso disfar quel che fa il Cielo. 195 

Cre. Che tal secreto non palesi altrui. 

Tire. Dunque tu mi conforti esser bugiardo ? 

Cre. Prego che taci. 

Tire. lo cio tacer non voglio : 

Ma, per darti nel mal qualche conforto, 
Ti fo certo ch' al fin sarai Signore 200 

Di Tebe : il che dimostra quella fibra 
Ch' e nasciuta dal cor senza compagna : 
Siccome ancor la particella guasta j 

£ argomento verissimo ch' approva j 

La morte di tuo figlio. 

Cre. Sii content© 205 

Di non ridir giammai questo secreto. 

Tire. lo nol debbo tacer, ne vo' tacerlo. 

Cre. Dunque del mio figliuol sarai omicida ? 

Tire. Di cio non me, ma la tua Stella in- 
colpa. 

Cre. E perche '1 Ciel lui sol condanna a 
morte? 210 

Tire. Creder si dee che la cagion sia giusta. 



Scene!.] JlOCafifta 29 1 

Cre. And by thy holy spirite of prophecie — 19s 
Tyr. " What heaven hath done, that cannot 

I undoe." 
Cre. That to no moe this secrete thou re- 

veale. 
Tyr. And wouldst thou have me learne to 

make a lye ? 
Cre. I pray thee hold thy peace. 
Tyr. That will I not ; 

But in thy woe to yeelde thee some reliefe, 200 
I tell thee once thou shalt be lorde of Thebes, 
Which happe of thine this string did well de- 
clare, 
Which from the heart doth out alonely growe. 
So did the peece corrupted playnly shewe 
An argument most evident to prove 205 

Thy Sonne his death. 

Cre. Well, yet be thou content 

To keepe full close this secrete hidden griefe. 
Tyr. I neither ought, ne will keepe it so close. 
Cre. Shall I be then the murtherer of mine 

owne ? 
Tyr. Ne blame not me, but blame the starres 

for this. 210 

Cre. Can heavens condemne but him alone 

to dye ? 
Tyr. We ought beleeve the cause is good and 
just. 

203 alonely. MS., all only. 



292 ^ioca^ta [act m. 

Cre. Giusto non e chi 1' innocente danna. 

Tire. Pazzo e chi accusa d' ingiustizia il 
Cielo. 

Cre. Dal Ciel non puo venir opra cattiva. 

Tire. Adunque questa ch' ei comanda e buona. 215 

Cre. Creder non vo' che teco parli Giove. 

Tire. Perch' io t' annunzio quel ch' a te non 
place. 

Cre. Toglimiti dinanzi, empio, e bugiardo. 

Tire. Figliuola, andiamo. Pazzo e ben chi 
adopra 
L' arte d' indovinar : perocche, s' ei 220 

Predice altrui talor le cose avverse, 
Odio n' acquista ; e s' egli tace il vero, 
OfFende i Dei. Era mestier che Apollo 
Predicesse il futuro : io dico Apollo, 
Che non puo temer di nimica offesa ; 225 

Ma drizziamo, figliuola, i passi altrove. 



Scene L] 3(|OCa0ta 293 

Cre. " Unjust is he condemnes the innocent." 
Tyr. " A foole is he accuseth Great foiiye 

heavens of wrongs." to accuse 

Cre. " There can no ill thing come t e go s. 

from heavens above." 2,15 

Tyr. Then this that heaven commaunds can 

not be ill. 
Cre. I not beleeve that thou hast talkt with 

God. 
Tyr. Bicause I tell thee that doth thee dis- 
please. 
Cre. Out of my sight, accursed lying wretch ! 
Tyr. Go, daughter, go ; oh, what ^ ^^^^^^ 
foole is he office to 

That puts in ure to publish prophecies ! foretell a 
" For if he do fore tell a froward fate, "^'^^ 
Though it be true, yet shall he purchase hate : 
And if he silence keepe, or hide the truth. 
The heavy wrath of mightie gods ensuth." 225 

Appollo he might well tell things to come, 
That had no dread the angry to ofFende. 
But hye we, daughter, hence some other way. 
Tyresias, with Manto his daughter, re- 
turneth by the gates called Electra. 

217 talkt, MS., talk. 

220 what foole. MS. and ^i, what a foole. 



294 ^ioca^ta [act m. 

[SCENA 2.] 

CreontCy Meneceo. 

Creonte. Caro figliuolo mio, T empia novella 
Contra di te dell' Indovino hai intesa : 
Ma non saro glammai tanto crudele, 
Ch' i* consenta, o figliuolo, alia tua morte. 

Meneceo. Anzi dovete consentir ch' io mora, 5 
Padre, dappoiche '1 mio morir fia quello 
Ch' apporti alia Citta vittoria, e pace. 
Ne si puo far la pid lodata morte, 
Che per ben della patria uscir di vita. 

Cre, Non lodo questa tua mal sana mente, 10 

Men. Sapete, padre mio, la vita nostra 
Esser fragile e corta, e veramente 
Non altro tutta, che travagli e pene : 
E morte, ch' ad alcun par tanto amara, 
Porto tranquil delle miserie umane ; 15 

Alia qual chi piu tosto arriva e giunto 



Scene II.] 3lOCa0ta 295 

SCENA 2. 

CreoTiy Meneceus. 

^Creon.^ Oh my deare childe, well hast thou 
heard with eare 
These weery newes, or rather wicked tales 
That this devine of thee devined hath : 
Yet will thy father never be thy foe, 
With cruell doome thy death for to consent. 5 

Meneceus. You rather ought, O father, to 
consent 
Unto my death, since that my death No greater 

1 . honor than 

"^^y bring ,„ dy^ for 

Unto this towne both peace and vie- thy coun- 

torie. ^'^y- 

" Ne can I purchase more prayse worthy death 
Than for my countries wealth to lose my 

breath." 10 

Ore, I cannot prayse this witlesse will of thine. 
Me. " You know, deare father, that this life 

of ours 
Is brittle, short, and nothing else in deede 
But tedious toyle and pangs of endlesse payne ; 
And death, whose darte to some men Death (in- 

seemes so fell, ^«f^) y^^^- 

„ . . , , . ... - eth more 

Brmgs quiet ende to this unquiet life ; pleasure 
Unto which ende who soonest doth than lyfe. 
arrive. 



296 ^iocae^ta iact m. 

Piu tosto dagli afFanni al suo riposo. 

Ma, posto che quaggiu non si sentisse 

Punto di noia, e non turbasse mai 

II bel nostro seren 1' empia fortuna ; 20 

Essendo io nato per morir, non fora 

Opra di gloria, e chiaro nome degna 

A donar alia patria ov' io son nato 

Per lungo bene un breve spazio d' anni ? 

Io non credo ch' alcun questo mi neghi. 25 

Or, se a vietar si gloriosa impresa 

Cagion sola di me, padre, vi move ; 

V avviso che cercate di levarmi 

Tutto il maggior onor ch' acquistar possa : 

Se per vostra cagion, dovete meno ; 30 

Perocche quanto maggior parte avete 

In Tebe, tanto piii dovreste amarla. 

Appresso avete Emon, ch* in vece mia, 

Padre mio caro, rimarra con voi ; 

Onde, benche di me sarete privo, 35 

Non sarete pero privo di figli. 

Cre. Io non posso, o figliuol, se non bias- 
mare 
Questo ch' hai di morir troppo desio : 



Scene IL] 3|OCa0ta 297 

Finds soonest rest of all his restlesse griefe. 

And were it so, that here on earth we felte 

No pricke of paine, nor that our flattring dayes 20 

Were never dasht by froward fortunes frowne, 

Yet being borne (as all men are) to dye, 

Were not this worthy glory and renowne — 

To yeelde the countrey soyle, where I was 

borne. 
For so long time so shorte a time as mine ? " ^5 
I can not thinke that this can be denied. 
Then if to shunne this haughtie high behest, 
Mine onely cause, O father, doth you move. 
Be sure you seeke to take from me, your sonne, 
The greatest honor that I can attayne ; 30 

But if your owne commoditie you move. 
So much the lesse you ought the same allowe ; 
For looke, how much the more you have in 

Thebes, 
So much the more you ought to love the same. 
Here have you Hemone, he that in my steade 35 
(O my deare father) may with you remaine, 
So that, although you be deprived of me. 
Yet shall you not be quite deprived of heires. 
Cre. I can not chuse, deare sonne, but dis- 

alowe 
This thy too hastie, bote desire of death ; 40 

24 borne. MS. places a (?) after this word. 

25 as mine f MS. , is mine ! 



298 ^iocas^ta [act m, 

Che, se della tua vita non ti cale, 

Ti dovrebbe doler di me tuo padre ; 40 

II qual, quanto piu innanzi vo poggiando 

Nella vecchiezza, tanto ho piu bisogno 

Della tua aita. lo gia negar non voglio 

Che '1 morir per la patria non apporti 

A gentil cittadin gloria et onore ; 45 

M' allor quando si muor con 1' arme in mano, 

Non come bestia in sacrilizio uccisa. 

E se pur deve consentir alcuno, 

Per tal cagione, a volontaria morte, 

Debbo esser io quell' un ; che essendo visso 50 

Assai corso di tempo, e breve e poco 

Quel che mi resta di fornir ancora : 

Et utile maggior la patria nostra 

Puo sperar, figliuol mio, dalla tua vita, 

Che sei giovane e forte, che non puote 55 

Sperar da un vecchio, omai debole e stance. 

Vivi adunque, figliuol, ch' io morir voglio. 

Come di te gia di morir piu degno. 

Men, Degno non e si indegno cambio farsi. 

Cre. Se in tal morir e gloria, a me la dona. 60 

Men. Non voi, me chiama a questa morte il 
Cielo. 

Cre. Ambi siamo un sol corpo, ambi una 
carne. 

Men. Padre, io debbo morir, non voi. 



Scene IL] 3(IOCa0ta 299 

For if thy life thou settest all so lighte, 
Yet oughtest thou thy father me respect, 
Who as I drawe the more to lumpishe age, 
So much more neede have I to crave thine ayde : 
Ne will I yet with stubborne tong denye, 45 

" That for his common weale to spende his life, 
Doth win the subject high renoumed name. 
But howe ? in armour to defende the state. 
Not like a beast to bleede in sacrifice : " 
And therwithal, if any shoulde consent 50 

To such a death, then should the same be I, 
That have prolonged life even long enough, 
[Ne] many dayes have I nowe to drawe on j 
And more availe might to the countrie come, 
Deare sonne, to hold that lustie life of thine, 55 
That art both yong and eke of courage stout. 
Than may by me that feeble am and olde. 
Then live, deare sonne, in high prosperitie. 
And give me leave, that worthy am, to dye. 

Me. Yet worthy were not that unworthy 
chaunge. 60 

Cre. If such a death bring glorie, give it me. 

Me, Not you, but me, the heavens cal to die. 

Cre. We be but one in flesh and body both. 

Me. I, father, ought, so ought not you, to 
die. 

43 lumpishe. MS., lymping. 

53 Ne. Q2, Nay. MS. and Qi, Ne. Q3, Not. 



300 ^ioca^ta [act m. 

Cre. Morendo 

Tu, non pensar, figliuol, ch* io resti in vita. 
Lassa adunque ch' io mora, che in tal modo 65 
Morra, figlio, chi deve, e morra un solo. 

Men. Padre, siccome, essendovi figliuolo, 
Debito officio e 1' obbedirvi sempre ; 
Cosi in questo sarebbe empio e crudele 
II voler consentir a vostre voglie. 7° 

Cre. Troppo sei ingenioso al proprio danno. 

Men.^ Pieta m' insegna a desiar tal morte. 

Cre. E pazzo T uom che se medesmo uccide. 

Men. Savio e chi cerca d' obbedir ai Dei. 

Cre. Gia non vogliono i Dei d' alcun la 
morte. 75 

Men. Ei ci tolgon la vita, ei ce la danno. 

Cre. Questo sarebbe da se stesso torla. 

Men. Anzi obbedir a chi non vuol ch' io 
viva. 

Cre. Qual peccato, o figliuol, ti danna a 
morte ? 

Men, Padre, chi e che non commetta errore ? 80 



Scene IL] ^lOCHS^ta 3OI 

Ore, If thou, sonne, die, thinke not that I 

can live : 65 

Then let me die, and so shall he first die 
That ought to die, and yet but one shal die. 
Me. Although I, father, ought t'obey your 

hestes. 
Yet evill it were in this to yelde your will. 

Ore. Thy wit is wylie for to worke thy wo. 70 
Me. Oh, tender pitie moveth me thereto. 
Ore. " A beast is he that kils himselfe with a 

knife 
Of pitie to preserve an others life." 

Me. " Yet wise is he that doth obey the 

gods." 
Cre. The gods will not the death of any 

wight. 75 

Me. "Whose life they take, they give him 

life also." 
Cre. But thou dost strive to take thy life thy 

selfe. 
Me. Nay them to obey that will I shall not 

live. 
Cre. What fault, O sonne, condemneth thee 

to death ? 
Me. " Who liveth (father) here without a 

fault?" 80 

69 e-vill it were. MS., well were not. Qi, evil were not. 
in this to. Qi, to this. 70 thy. Qi, this. 

72 a. Omitted in MS. and Qi. 73 an. MS., some. 



302 (Siocafifta Iact m. 

Cre. Error non veggo in te degno di morte. 

Men, Lo vede Giove che discerne il tutto. 

Cre. Noi saper non potem qual e sua voglia. 

Men. Sapemo allor ch' ei ce la fa palese. 

Cre. Quasi ch' ei scenda a ragionar con noi. 85 

Men. Per vari mezzi il suo secreto ei n' apre. 

Cre. Pazzo e ch' intender pensa il suo se- 
creto : 
E, j>er finir questa contesa nostra, 
lo ti dico che vo' ch' ambi viviamo ; 
Pero disponti ad ubbidirmi, e lascia 9° 

Questa ostinata tua non dritta voglia. 

Men. Voi potete di me quanto di voi : 
E poiche tanto v' e mia vita cara, 
lo la conservero, perche a turt' ora 
Spender la possa a beneficio vostro. 95 

Cre. Dunque e bisogno che tantosto sgombri 
Delia Citta, pria che Tiresia audace 
Pubblichi quel che non e inteso ancora. 

Men. Dove, et a qual Citta debbo ridurmi ? 



Scene H] 3IOCa0Ca 303 

Cre. I see no gylte in thee that death deserves. 
Me. But God it seeth that every secrete seeth. 
Cre. How shoulde we knowe what is the will 

of God ? 
Me. We knowe it then, when he reveales the 

same. 
Cre. As though he would come doune to tell 

it us ! ^5 

Me. By divers meanes his secrets he disclos- 

eth. 
Cre. Oh, fonde is he, who thinkes to under- 
stand 
The mysteries of Jove his secrete mynde ; 
And for to ende this controversie here, 
Loe ! thus I say, I will we both live yet ; 90 

Prepare thee then, my (*) hestes to Commaunde- 

holde and keepe, ments. 

And pull a downe that stubborne heart of thyne. 
Me. You may of me as of your selfe dispose. 
And since my life doth seeme so deare to you, 
I will preserve the same to your availe, 95 

That I may spende it alwayes to your wil. 
Cre. Then thee behoves out of this towne to 
flie. 
Before the bold and blinde Tyresias 
Doe publish this that is as yet unknowne. 

Me. And where, or in what place shall I be- 
come ? 100 



304 ^tOCa0ta [Act m. 

Cre. Dove da questa sii via piu lontano. loo 

Men. Voi comandar, io satisfarvi deggio. 

Cre. N' andrai al terreno di Tesbroti. 

Men. Dove 

La sacra fede e di Dodona ? 

Cre. Questa I 

Intendo, o figlio, ti 

Men. E chi de' passi miei 

Sara guida e custode ? 

Cre. II padre Giove. 105 

Men. Onde verra il sostegno alia mia vita ? 

Cre. Quivi io ti mandero gran copia d' oro. 

Men. Quando vi vedro io, padre mio caro ? 

Cre. Spero ch' in breve con maggior ventura. 
Or ti diparti; ch' ogni poco indugio no 

Mi potrebbe recar pena e tormento. 

Men. Prima toglier io vo', padre, congedo 
Dalla Reina, che, send' io rimaso 
Privo di madre, mi die il latte primo. 

Cre. Pill non tardar, figliuolo. 

Men. Ecco ch' io parto. 115 

109 Ventura. O, D, venuta, corrected in " Printers' Errors^'' 
ofD. 



Scene IL] 3(|OCa0ta 305 

Cre. Where thou mayste be hence furthest 

out of sight. 
Me. You may commaunde, and I ought to 

obey. 
Cre, Go to the lande of Thesbeoita — 
Me. Where Dodona doth sit in sacred chaire ? 
Cre. Even there, my childe. 105 

Me. And who shall guide my wandring steps ? 
Cre. High Jove. 

Me. Who shal give sustenance for my reliefe ? 
Cre. There will I send thee heapes of glist- 

ring golde. 
Me. But when shall I eftesoones my father 

see ? 
Cre. Ere long, I hope : but now, for now, 
depart ; 
For every lingring let or little stay no 

May purchase payne and torment both to me. 
Me. First would I take my conge of the 
Queene 
That, since the day my mother lost hir life, 
Hath nourisht me as if I were hir owne. 115 

Cre. Oh, tarry not, my deare sonne, tarry not. 
Creon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes. 
Me. Beholde, father, I goe. You dames of 
Thebes, 

103 Thesbeoita. MS. and Qi, Thesbrotia, Hazlitt, Thes- 
protia. 

Creon . . . Homoloydes, MS. Qq put this before line 1 1 6. 



306 ^tOCa0ta [Act ni. 

Donne, pregate voi pel mio ritorno. 
Vedete ben come malvagia Stella 
M' induce a gir della mia patria fucra : 
E, s* egli avvien ch' io finisca avante 
Questa mia giovenil dolente vita, 
Onoratemi voi del vostro pianto. 
In tanto anch' io per la salute vostra 
Preghero sempre, ov' io men vada, i Dei. 

CORO. 

Quando colei ch' in su la rota siede 

Volge ii torbido aspetto 

Air uom che '1 suo seren godea felice, 

Non cessa di girar 1' instabil piede, 

Fin ch' ad ogni miseria il fa soggetto : 

E, come pianta svelta da radice, 

Egli non piCi ritorna 

Onde r ha spinto quella, 

Del nostro ben rubella : 

E se pur torna, non puo gir di paro 

II dolce suo col gia gustato amaro. 



Scene II.] JlOCaS^ta 307 

Pray to almightie Jove for my retourne : 
You see how mine unhappie starres me drive 
To go my countrie fro ; and if so chaunce 120 

I ende in woe my pryme and lustie yeares, 
Before the course of nature do them call, 
Honor my death yet with your drery plaints ; 
And I shall eke, where so this carkas come. 
Pray to the gods that they preserve this towne. 125 
Meneceus departeth by the gates Electr^e. 

Chorus. 

When she that rules the rolling wheele of 
chaunce. 
Doth turne aside hir angrie frowning face 
On him, whom erst she deigned to advance, 
She never leaves to gaulde him with disgrace. 
To tosse and turne his state in every place, 5 

Till at the last she hurle him from on high. 
And yeld him subject unto miserie : 

And as the braunche that from the root is reft. 
He never winnes like [leafe] to that he lefte ; 

Yea, though he do, yet can not tast of joy 10 
Compare with pangs that past in his annoy. 

Well did the heavens ordeine for our behoofe 

^gaulde. Qi, galde. Q3, gall. 

9 leafe. So in Qi, ** Faultes escaped correction. " MS., lefe. 
Qi (rm),Q2, Q3,life. 

io not. MS. and Ql, no. 



3o8 6ioca0ta [acthi. 

Dura necessita ben pose il Cielo 
Sovra r umane cose ; 
Che, per veder il nostro male avanti, 
(Come bendasse gli occhi oscuro velo) 15 

Perche non sian le voglie al ben ritrose, 
Non possiamo trovar riparo ai pianti : 
Onde la sorte ria 
Chi contende per forza 

Tira ; e chi alia sua forza 20 

Cede adduce in un punto alia ruina 
Che '1 Ciel per nostro mal spesso destina, 
Saggio nocchier, s' a gran periglio mira 
II com.battuto legno 

Or quinci, or quindi da contrari venti, 25 

La, 've grave del Ciel lo caccia 1' ira, 
Sol [c] a r ondoso regno, 
Quantunque del suo fin tremi e paventi : 
Perche conosce, e 'ntende 

Ch' a chi col ciel contrasta 30 

Uman saper non basta : 
Ond' ei, ponendo in Dio tutto '1 conforto, 
Sovente arriva al desiato porto. 

22 Che "I Ciel. O, Che quel 
27 solca. O, D, solea. 



Chorus.] 3|OCa0ta 309 

Necessitie and fates by them alowde, 
That when we see our high mishappes aloofe 
(As though our eyes were mufled with a cloude) 15 
Our froward will doth shrinke it selfe, and 

shrowde 
From our availe, wherwith we runne so farre, 
As none amends can make that we do marre ; 
Then drawes evill happe and strives to shew 

his strength : 
And such as yeld unto his might, at length 20 

He leades them by necessitie the way 
That destinie preparde for our decay. 

The mariner, amidde the swelling seas 
Who seeth his barke with many a billowe 

beaten, 
Now here, now there, as wind and waves best 

please, 25 

When thundring Jove with tempest list to 

threaten. 
And dreades in depest gulfe for to be eaten. 
Yet learnes a meane by mere necessitie 
To save himselfe in such extremitie : 

For when he seeth no man hath witte nor 

powre 30 

To flie from fate, when fortune list to lowre. 
His only hope on mightie Jove doth caste. 
Whereby he winnes the wished heaven at last. 

33 heaven. MS. and Qi, haven. 



310 6ioca0ta [actih. 

Sciocco e chi crede che '1 gran Padre eterno, 
Che la su tempra e move 35 

Ad uno ad uno i bei lucenti giri, 
Non abbia di quaggiu tutto '1 governo 
A tal, che non si trove 
Poter che senza lui si stenda, o giri. 
O noi ciechi del tutto 40 

E miseri mortali, 
Soggetti a tanti mali ; 
Che, per esser digiun di pene e guai, 
Meglio fora ad alcun non nascer mai. 

Poteva ben con la morte del figlio 45 

(Se predir suole il vero 
Tiresia, del futur certo indovino) 
Trar la patria d' afFanno e di periglio : 
Ma lontano e '1 pensiero 

Dair utile comun lungo cammino, 50 

Quando far non si puote 
Senza alcun proprio danno. 
Ecco siccome vanno 
Dritto a ruina le pubbliche cose, 
Se a quelle le private alcun prepose. 55 

Pur noi non cesseremo 
Di pregar, Giove, tua bonta, che toglia 
La Citta dell' assedio, e noi di doglia. 

48 Trar . . . periglio. In " Printers' Errors " of O, Creonte trar 
la patria di periglio. 



Chorus] 3|0Cafi^ta 3II 

How fond is that man in his fantasie, 
Who thinks that Jove, the maker of us al, 35 

And he that tempers all in heaven on high, 
The sunne, the mone, the starres celestiall, 
So that no leafe without his leave can fall, 
Hath not in him omnipotence also 
To guide and governe all things here below ! 4° 

O blinded eies, O wretched mortall wights, 
O subject slaves to every ill that lights, 

To scape such woe, such paine, such shame 
and scorne, 
Happie were he that never had bin borne ! 

Well might duke Creon, driven by destinie, 45 
(If true it be that olde Tyresias saith) 
Redeme our citie from this miserie 
By his consent unto Meneceus death. 
Who of himselfe wold faine have lost his breth : 
" But every man is loth for to fulfill 50 

The heavenly best that pleaseth not his will. 

That publique weale must needes to ruine go, 
Where private profite is preferred so." 

Yet, mightie God, thy only aide we crave. 
This towne from siege and us from sorowe save. S5 

42 ///. MS. and Qi, evill. 



fetus tertii. Done by G. Gascoygne, 

Done by G. Gascoygne. Ql omits. 



The order of the fourth 
dumbe shewe 

Before the beginning of this fourth Acte, the 
trumpets, drummes and fifes sounded, and a 
greate peale of ordinaunce was shot of: in the 
which ther entred upon the stage vi knights 
armed at al points : wherof three came in by the 5 
gates Electrae, and the other three by the gates 
Homoloides : either parte beeing accompanied 
with vii other armed men : and after they had 
marched twice or thrice about the stage, the 
one partie menacing the other by their furious 10 
lookes and gestures, the vi knights caused their 
other attendants to stand by, and drawing their 
swords, fell to cruell and couragious combate, 
continuing therein, till two on the one side were 
slayne. The third, perceiving that he only re- 15 
mayned to withstand the force of iii enimies, did 
politiquely runne aside : wherewith immediatly 
one of the iii followed after him, and when he 
had drawen his enimie thus from his companie, 
hee turned againe and slewe him, Then the 20 

2 the trumpets . . . ffes. MS. and Qi, the Trompetts 
sounded, the droomes and fyfes. 



tiriie orDer of t\)t tburtti Dumbe ^tietoe 313 

seconde also ranne after him, whom he slewe 
in like manner, and consequently the thirde, and 
then triumphantly marched aboute the stage 
wyth hys sword in his hand. Hereby was noted 
the incomparable force of Concorde betwene 25 
brethren, who as long as they holde togither 
may not easily by any meanes be overcome, and, 
being once dissevered by any meanes, are easily 
overthrowen. The history of the brethren Ho- 
ratii and Curiatii, who agreed to like combate 30 
and came to like ende. After that the dead car- 
kasses were caried from the stage by the armed 
men on both parties, and that the victor was 
triumphantly accompanied out also, came in a 
messanger armed from the campe, seeking the 35 
Queene, and to hir spake as foloweth. 

26 Ao/de. Q3, doo holde. 

34 also. Qq, comma before also instead of after. 



Atto Quarto. 

[SCENA I.] 

Nuncio y Gio casta. 

Nuncio. O saggie ancelle, o secretarie fide 
Delia vecchia Reina, or lei menate, 
Menate fuor, ch' io le rapporto nuova 
Che molto importa. Uscite fuori, uscite, 
Reina; e omai lasciate le querele, 
E alle parole mie porgete orecchia. 

Giocasta. O caro servo mio, di nuova pena 
Mi vien tu forse messaggiero ? Ahi lassa ; 
Ch' e d' Eteocle mio, di cui solevi 
Esser mai sempre in ogni impresa a lato, 
E gli facevi ogn' or riparo e scudo ? 
Viv' egli, o pur nella battaglia e morto ? 

Nun. Vive. Di questo non abbiate tema ; 
Che tosto io vi trarro di tal sospetto. 



Actus iiii. Scena i. 

Nuncius^ Jocasta. 

Nuncius commeth in by the gates Homoloides. 

\^Nuncius.'] O sage and sober dames, O shame- 
fast maids, 
O faithful servants of our aged Queene, 
Come, leade hir forth, sith unto hir I bring 
Such secrete newes as are of great importe. 
Come forth, O Queene, surceasse thy wofull 

plaint. 
And to my words vouchsafe a willing eare. 

The Queene with hir traine commeth out of 
hir pallace. 
jocasta. My servant deare, doest thou yet 
bring me newes 
Of more mishappe ? ah werie wretch, alas ! 
How doth Eteocles whom heretofore, 
In his encreasing yeares, I wonted ay 
From daungerous happe with favoure to defend ? 
Doth he yet live ? or hath untimely death 
In cruell fight berefte his flowring life ? 

Nun. He lives (O Queene) : hereof have ye 
no doubt ; 
From such suspecte my selfe will quit you soone. 

II favoure, Hazlitt, fervoure. 15 you. MS., ye. 



31 6 ^iocasfta [activ. 

Gio. Han forse la cittade i Greci presa ? 15 

Nun. Lo tolga Iddio. 

Gio. Forse le genti nostre 

Son rotte, o poste a qualche gran periglio ? 

Nun. Fur certo a gran periglio d' esser rotte, 
Poi n' hanno avuto la vittoria al fine. 

Gio. Ma che avvenuto e, oime, di Polinice ? 20 
Mi sai tu raccontar s' e morto, o vivo ? 

Nun. Vive, o Reina, V uno, e V altro figlio. 

Gio. O di quanto dolor m' hai tratto fuori. 
Segui adunque, e mi di' siccome avete 
Ribattuti i nemici ; acciocch' io possa 25 

Racconsolarmi di saper che sia 
Fin qui serbata la Citta di Tebe : 
Forse del resto allegrerammi Giove. 

Nun. Appena ebbe divisi i sette Duci 
II vostro forte e generoso figlio, 30 

E postogli a difesa delle porte, 
Opponendo con ordine perfetto 
Alia cavalleria degli inimici 
La nostra, et ai pedon le genti a piedi; 



Scene I.] JlOCa^ta 317 

Joe, The ventrous Greekes have haply tane 
the towne ? 

Nun, The gods forbid ! 

Joe. Our souldiers, then, perchance 

Dispersed bene and yelden to the sword ? 

Nun. Not so, they were at first in daunger 
sure. 
But in the end obteined victorie. 20 

Joe, Alas, then what becommes of Polynice ? 
Oh, canst thou tell ? is he dead or alive ? 

Nun. You have (O Queene) yet both your 
sonnes alive. 

Joe, Oh, how my harte is eased of his paine ! 
Well, then, proceede, and briefly let me heare 25 
How ye repulst your proud presuming foes. 
That thereby yet at least I may assuage 
The swelling sorrowes in my dolefuU brest. 
In that the towne is hitherto preservde : 
And for the rest, I trust that [mightie] Jove 30 
Will yeld us ayde. 

Nun. No soner had your worthy valiant sonne 
Severde the dukes into seaven severall partes. 
And set them to defence of severall gates. 
And brought in brave arraye his horssemen out 35 
First to encounter with their mightie foen. 
And likewise pitcht the footemen face to face 

24 hii. MS. and Qi, this. 

36 mightie, so in MS. Q2, might. 



3i8 €iioca0ta [activ. 

Che veggiamo T esercito accostarsi 35 

A' primi fossi onde la terra e cinta. 

Allora insieme le nemiche trombe, 

E le Tebane parimente diero 

Orribil segno di spietata guerra. 

Cominciaro gli Argivi a dar 1' assalto 40 

Alia Cittade, e i nostri dalle mura 

Con pietre, dardi, fuochi, e calci, e travi, 

Quanto potevan, gli tenean lontani. 

Con tutto cio, dopo molta contesa; 

Onde infiniti ne fur morti e guasti: 45 

Gli Argivi s' accostar sotto le mura. 

Di lor fu allora un Capitan superbo, 

Chiamato Capaneo, primo a salire; 

Dietro del qual salir molt' altri ancora. 

Cosi quel sette Capitani eletti; 5° 



Scene!.] 3lOCa0Ca 319 

Against the footemen of their enimies, 

But fiercely straight the armies did approche, 

Swarming so thicke as coverde cleane the 

fielde, 40 

When dreadfull blast of braying trumpets 

sounde, 
Of dolefull drummes, and thundring cannon 

shot 
Gave hideous signe of horrour of the fight. 
Then gan the Greekes to give their sharpe 

assaulte, 
Then from the walls our stout couragious men 45 
With rolling stones, with paisse of hugie 

beames, 
With flying dartes, with flakes of burning fire, 
And deadly blowes did beate them backe againe. 
Thus striving long with stout and bloudie 

fighte 
(Whereby full many thousande slaughtered 

were), 5° 

The bardie Greeks came underneath the walls: 
Of whome first Capaney (a lustie knight) 
Did scale the walls, and on the top thereof 
Did vaunt himselfe, when many hundred moe 
With fierce assaultes did follow him as fast. 55 

Then loe, the Captaines seaven bestirrde them- 
selves 

43 of horrour. Hazlitt, O horrour! 
50 thousande. MS., thousandes. 



320 ^tOCa^ta [Act IV. 

De' quali gia n' avete inteso il nome; 
Chi di qua, chi di la gagliardamente 
Espugnavan di noi le sette porte : 
E Polinice vostro avea drizzata 
Tutta alia maggior porta la sua schiera: 
Quando discese un folgore dal Cielo 
Che Capaneo, quel Capitan, percosse, 
E nel fece cader morto la, dove 
A chi '1 vide cader gelossi il sangue. 
Quei che salir volean da quella parte 
Sossopra traboccar giu per le scale. 
Allora, riprendendo ardir e forza 
I nostri, risospinsero gli Argivi. 
Quivi v' era Eteocle, et io con lui; 
Che rimesse le genti alle difese, 
Accorse all' altre porte, e a' spaventati 
Porgeva animo e forza, et agli arditi 
Accresceva il valor con le parole. 
Intanto, avendo il Re d' Argivi inteso 
Di Capaneo la formidabil morte, 
Parendo a lui d' aver nimico Giove, 
L' esercito ritrasse oltra la fossa. 
Ma r incauto Eteocle, assecurato 
Nel buono Augurio, spinse fuor di Tebe 



Scene I.] 31OCa0ta 3^1 

(Whose names ye have alreadie understoode), 
Some here, some there, nought dreading losse 

of life. 
With new reliefe to feede the fainting breach ; 
And Polynice, he bended all the force 60 

Of his whole charge against the greatest gate, 
When sodenly a flashe of lightning flame 
From angrie skies strake captaine Capaney 
That there downe dead he fell : at sight 

whereof 
The gazers on were fraught with soden feare. 65 
The rest, that strove to mount the walles so 

fast. 
From ladders toppe did headlong tumble downe. 
Herewith our men, encouragde by good happe, 
Toke hardy harts, and so repulst the Grekes. 
Ther was Eteocles, and I with him, 70 

Who setting first those souldiers to their charge, 
Ranne streight to thother gates ; unto the 

weake 
He manly comforte gave : unto the bold 
His lusty words encreased courage still. 
In so much as th'amased Grecian king, 75 

When he did heare of Capaney his death. 
Fearing thereby the gods became his foen, 
Out from the trench withdrewe his wearie host. 
But rashe Eteocles (presuming too, too much 
Uppon their flight) did issue out of Thebes, 80 



322 ^iocas^ta [act iv. 

Immantinente la cavalleria, 75 

Et in mezzo a' nemici audace diede. 

Lungo fora a contar quanti di loro 

Ne fur uccisi, mal menati, e spinti. 

Si sentiva per tutto alto rumore 

Di voci, gridi, gemiti, e lamenti : 80 

S' orribile giammai si disse morte, 

Quivi, Reina fu, qui'/i mostrossi. 

Or fino a questo di levata abbiamo 

Di prender la citta la speme ai Greci: 

Ma che dappoi succeda un lieto fine, 35 

Questo io non so ; che n' ha la cura Giove. 

Ora e il vincer altrui lodevol cosa, 

Ma molto piu fu sempre il seguir bene 

La vittoria, che spesso cangia stile. 

Ma di questo Reina, anco saremo 90 

Tutti felici, purche piaccia ai Dei. 

Gio. Buono e questo successo, e veramente 
Qual gia per me non si sperava molto ; 
Che salva e la Cittade, e i miei figliuoli 
(Siccome mi racconti) ambi son vivi. 95 

Ma segui ancora in raccontarmi quello 
Ch' essi tra lor nel fine hanno disposto. 

Nun. Non cercate, Reina, intender altro, 
Che insino a qui siete felice assai. 



Scene I.] ^OtUSitU 323 

And forwarde straight with strength of chivalrie 
His flying foes couragiously pursude. 
Too long it were to make recompt of all 
That wounded bene, or slaine, or captive now : 
The cloudy ayre was filled round aboute 85 

With houling cries and wofull wayling plaints. 
So great a slaughter (O renowmed Queene) 
Before this day I thinke was never scene. 
Thus have we now cut of the fruitlesse hope 
The Grecians had to sacke this noble towne. 90 
What joyfull end will happen hereunto 
Yet know I not : the gods tourne all to good ! 
" To conquere, lo, is doubtlesse worthy praise, 
But wisely for to use the conquest gotte, 
Hath ever wonne immortall sound of fame." 95 
Well, yet therewhile in this we may rejoyce, 
Sith heaven and heavenly powers are pleasde 
therewith. 

yoc. This good successe was luckie, sure, and 
such 
As, for my parte, I little loked for : 
To save the towne and eke to have my sonnes 100 
(As you report) preserved yet alive. 
But yet proceede, and further let me know 
The finall ende that they agreed upon. 

Nun. No more (O Queene): let this for now 
suffise ; 
Sith hitherto your state is safe inough. 105 



324 €>ioca0ta [act iv. 

Gio. Questo tuo dir m' ingombra di sospetto, loo 
E desio di saper di maggior cosa. 

Nun. Che piu intender potete, avendo inteso 
Che r uno e 1' altro figlio e senza offesa? 

Gio. Vo' saper quel che resta, o bene, o male. 

Nun. Lasciate ch' io ritorni ove Eteocle 105 
Ha gran bisogno dell' officio mio. 

Gio. M' avveggo ben che mi nascondi il peg- 
gio. 

Nun. Non fate dopo '1 ben racconti il male. 

Gio. Di, se cader non vuoi nell' ira mia. 

Nun. Poiche volete udir novella trista, no 

Io non la tacero. Sappiate come 
I vostri figli hanno conchiuso insieme 
Di cosa far, ch' e scellerata e ria: 
Si son sfidati a singolar battaglia; 
Onde forza e ch' un viva, e 1' altro pera, 115 

O che forse periscano ambedue. 

Gio. Ahi, che sempre io temei d' intender 
questo. 

Nun. Poich' in somma v' ho detto quel 
ch' udito 

116 . . . ambedue. Not in O. 



Scene L] JlOCa^Ca 325 

'Joe, These words of thine do whelme my 
jealous mind 
With great suspecte of other mischiefes hidde. 
Nun. What would you more, alredy being 
sure 
That both your sonnes in safetie do remaine ? 
Joe. I long to know the rest, or good or bad. no 
Nun. O let me now retourne to Eteocles, 
That of my service greatly stands in neede. 
Joe. Right well I see, thou doest conceale the 

woorst. 
Nun. Oh, force me not, the good now beeing 
past, 
To tell the yll. 115 

Joe. Tell it, I say, on paine of our displeas- 
ure. 
Nun. Since thus ye seeke to heare a dolefull 
tale, 
I will no longer stay : witte ye, therefore. 
Your desperate sonnes togither be agreed 
For to attempt a wicked enterprise ; 12.0 

To private fight they have betroutht themselves. 
Of which conflicte the ende must needes be 

this. 
That one do live, that other die the death. 
Joe. Alas, alas, this did I ever feare. 
Nun. Now, sith in summe I have revealed 

that, 125 

lo6 do. MS., doth. 108 you. MS. and Qi, ye. 



326 ^iocasfta [act iv. 

Voi non potete aver senza cordoglio, 
Or seguiro partitamente il tutto. 
Poiche '1 vittorioso vostro figlio 

I nimici caccio fin dei ripari, 

Fermossi : indi gridar fece a un trombetta : 

Principi Argivi, che venuti sete 

Per dipredar i nostri dolci campi, 

E noi scacciar fuor della patria nostra, 

Non vogliate che tante anime, e tante 

In questa guerra scendano alF Inferno 

Sol per cagion dell' empio Polinice: 

Ma consentite che ambi in questo giorno 

Da solo a solo combattendo insieme 

La grave question nata fra loro, 

Vi si tolga di mano ogni fatica: 

Et acciocche ciascun di voi conosca 

L' utile e '1 ben che ve ne puo seguire 

II mio Signor vi fa questo partito: 

Vuol che, s' avvien che nella pugna cada. 
La Citta sia in poter di Polinice: 
Ma s' avverra, come e ragion ch' avvegna, 
Che '1 giusto Signor nostro uccida lui, 
Altro da voi piu non ricerca, o chiede, 
Se non che voi vi ritorniate in Argo. 
Appena di gridar queste parole 

122 dei, O, nei. 



Scene I] 3|OCa0ta 3^7 

Which you have heard with great remorse of 

mind, 
I will proceede at large to tell the whole. 
When your victorious sonne with valiant force 
Had chast his foes into their joyning tents, 
Even there he staide, and straight at sound of 

trumpe 130 

With stretched voice the herault thus pro- 

claimde : 
" You princely Greekes, that hither be arrived 
To spoile the fruite of these our fertile fields, 
And us to drive from this our native soile, 
O suffer not so many giltlesse soules 135 

By this debate descend in Stygian lake 
For private cause of wicked Polynice ; 
But rather let the brethren, hand to hand. 
By mutuall blowes appease their furious rage, 
And so to cease from sheding further bloud. 140 
And to the end you all might understand 
The profite that to every side may fall. 
Thus much my lord thought good to profer you. 
This is his will, if he be overcome. 
Then Polynice to rule this kingly realme; 145 

If so it happe (as reason would it should) 
Our rightfull prince to conquere Polynice, 
That then no one of you make more adoo. 
But straight to Argos ile hast home againe." 
This thus pronounst unto the noble Greeks, 150 



328 ^ioca^ta [act iv. 

II Trombetta fini, che Polinice 

Si fece inmanzi alle Tebane squadre; 145 

E a' detti di colui cosi rispose : 

Non fratel, ma nemico del mio sangue ; 

II partito che fai mi piace tanto, 

Che senza difFerir si bella impresa, 

Ecco ch' armato io mi dimostro al campo. 150 

Si mosse il nostro Re con la prestezza 

Che suol Falcon, che visto abbia la preda ; 

L' uno e V altro era armato, e cinta avea 

La spada al fianco ; onde fur date ad ambi 

Due grosse lancie. Ad Eteocle fero 15s 

I nostri cerchio ; e gli dicean ch' avesse 

Nella memoria come combatteva 

Per conservar la patria, e ch' in lui solo 

Era di tutti la salute posta. 

A Polinice il Re disse che essendo 160 

Ei vincitor come sperava, in segno 

Delia vittoria, egli votava a Giove 

Di alzar in Argo una gran statua d' oro. 

Ma voi cercate d' impedir la pugna, 

Reina, pria che piu ne segua avanti : 165 



Scene!.] ^OtdL^tU 329 

No soner did the sound of trumpet cease, 

But Polynice stept forth before the host, 

And to these words this answere did he make : 

" O thou, not brother, but my mortall foe. 

Thy profer here hath pleased me so well 155 

As presently, without more long delay, 

I yeld myselfe prepared to the field." 

Our noble king no soner heard this vaunt, 

But forth as fast he prest his princely steppes 

With eger mind, as hoovering falcon woonts 160 

To make hir stoope, when pray appeares in 

sight. 
At all assayes they both were bravely armed, 
To eithers side his sword fast being girt ; 
In eithers hand was put a sturdy launce. 
About Eteocles our souldiers cloong 165 

To comforte him, and put him then in mind 
He fought for safetie of his country soile. 
And that in him consisted all their hope. 
To Polynice the king Adrastus swore, 
If he escaped victor from the fielde, 170 

At his returne he would in Greece erecte 
A golden image unto mightie Jove 
In signe of his triumphing victorie. 
But all this while seeke you, O noble Queene, 
To hinder this your furious sonnes attempte : 175 
Intreat the gods it may not take efFecte, 



330 €>ioca0ta [act iv. 

Altramente sarete in questo giorno 

O d' uno almeno, o d' ambi i figli priva. 

[SCENA 2.] 

Giocastdy Antigone, 

Gtocasta. Antigone, figliuola, esci di fuora 
Di questa casa di mestizia e pianto : 
Esci, non per cagion di canti o balli ; 
Ma per vietar, se puoi, che i tuoi fratelli 
Oggi con 1' empie man miseramente 5 

Non si traggan del corpo il sangue e V alma, 
E' nsieme con la madre escan di vita. 

Antigone. Madre, mia cara madre, 
Oime, perche, formate 

Con lacrimosi accenti 10 

Queste voci dolenti ? 
Che vi molesta, oime ? che vi molesta ? 

G'lo. Figliuola, i tuoi fratelli, 
Sangue del sangue mio : 

Se non lo toglie Dio, iS 

Oggi saranno spenti. 



Scene II.] 3|OCa0ta 331 

Els must you needes ere long deprived be 
Of both your sonnes, or of the one at least. 

Nuncius returneth to the camp by the gates 
Homoloydes. 



[SCENA 2.] 

Jocastay Antigone. 

[Jocasta.^ Antigone, my swete daughter, 
come forth 
Out of this house, that nought but woe re- 

taines : 
Come forth, I say, not for to sing or daunce. 
But to prevent, if in our powers it lie. 
That thy malicious brethren, swolne with ire, 
And I, alas ! their miserable mother. 
Be not destroide by stroke of dreadfull death. 

Antigone commeth out of hir mother^ s Pal- 
lace. 
Antigone. Ah, swete mother ! ah, rny beloved 
mother ! 
Alas, alas ! what cause doth move ye now 
From trembling voice to send such carefull 

cries ? 
What painefull pang, what griefe doth gripe you 
now? 

178 at least. MS. lidds, Nuntius exit. 1 1 you. MS., ye. 



332 ^iOta^ta [Act IV. 

Ant. Oime, che dite, oime, che cosa dite? 
Oime, potro sofFrir di veder morto 
Quel che tanto bramai di veder vivo ? 

Gio. Ambi sfidati sono 20 

(Oime, ch' io tremo a dirlo) 
A scellerata guerra. 

Ant. Eteocle crudele : 
O crudele Eteocle, 

Tu solo sei cagione 25 

Di questa crudeltade ; 
Non Polinice mio, 
Che tu si crudelmente 
Hai della patria privo, 
Et or cerchi (ahi crudel) privar di vita. 30 

Gio. Non pill si tardi, o figlia, andiamo, an- 
diamo. 

Ant, Dove volete voi, 
Madre, ch' io venga ? 

Gio. Voglio, 

Figlia, che venghi meco 
Air esercito Greco. 35 

Ant. Ah, che venir non posso 
Senza vergogna, e tema, 
Se non della mia vita, 
Almeno del mio onore. 

Gio. Non e tempo, o figliuola, 40 

Di riguardar a onore ; 
Ma ben di procurar, se noi potiamo, 



Scene II.] 31OCa0ta 333 

Joe. O, deare daughter, thy most unhappie 
brethren, 
That sometimes lodgde within these wretched 

loynes. 
Shall die this day, if Jove prevent it not. 

Ant. Alas ! what say you ? alas, what do you 
say ? 15 

Can I, alas ! endure to see him dead. 
Whom I thus long have sought to see alive ? 
Joe. They both have vowde (I quake, alas ! 
to tell) 
With trenchant blade to spill eche others blood. 

Ant. O cruell Eteocles ! ah, ruthlesse wretch ! ^o 
Of this outrage thou only art the cause. 
Not Polynice, whom thou with hatefuU spight 
Hast reaved first of crowne and countrie soyle, 
And now doest seeke to reave him of his life. 
Joe. Daughter, no more delay : lets go, lets 

go. 25 

Ant. Ah, my sweete mother, whither shall 

I go? 
Joe. With me, deere daughter, to the Greek- 

ish host. 
Ant. Alas, how can I go, unles I go 
In daunger of my life, or of good name ? 

Joe. Time serves not now, my well-beloved 
childe, 30 

20 Ant. Qi omits 



334 ^iocasfta [activ. 

Impedir che non segua 

Quel che, a pensarlo solo, 

Mi trae 1' alma del petto. 45 

Ant. Andiamo, andiamo, o madre. 
Ma che potremo noi, 
Voi debol vecchia, et io 
Impotente fanciulla ? 

Gio. Faranno le parole, 5© 

I preghi, e 'nsieme i pianti 
Quel che non puo ragione, 
Ne autorita, ne forza. 
E quando fian tutti i rimedi vani, 
Io mi porro tra loro, 55 

E saro col mio petto 
Air uno e 1' altro scudo, 
Tal che aprano le mie, non le lor carni. 
M' afFrettati, figliuola ; 

Che, s' arriviamo a tempo, 60 

Restera forse in piede 
Questa mia stanca vita ; 
Se tardi, io t' assecuro 
Che con i miei figliuoli 

Oggi sara fornita ; 65 

E tu, figlia dolente. 



Scene H.] JlOCHflfta 335 

To way the losse of life or honest name, 
But rather to prevent, if so we may. 
That wicked deede, which only but to thinke 
Doth hale my hart out of my heavie brest. 
Ant. Come then, lets go, good mother, let us 

go; 35 

But what shall we be able for to doe — 
You a weake old woman forworne with 

yeares 
And I, God knows, a silly simple mayde ? 
'Joe, Our wofull wordes, our prayers and our 

plaintes, 
Pourde out with streames of overflowing teares, 40 
Where nature rules, may happen to prevayle, 
When reason, power and force of armes do 

fayle. 
But if the glowing heate of boyling wrath 
So furious be, as it may not relent. 
Then I atwixt them both will throw my selfe, 45 
And this my brest shall beare the deadly blowes. 
That otherwise should light upon my sonnes : 
So shall they shead my bloud and not their 

owne. 
Well now, deere daughter, let us hasten hence. 
For if in time we stay this raging strife, 5° 

Then haply may my life prolonged be. 
If, ere we come, the bloudy deede be done. 
Then must my ghost forsake this feeble corps, 



336 ^iocasfta [act iv. 

Questo di piangerai 
La madre, et i fratelli ; 

CORO. 

Chi provato ha giammai 

Quanto e possente e caldo 

L' amor ch' a' propri figli 

Porta pietosa madre ? 

Costei, non altra, puote 5 

Comprender quanto sia 

Infinite il dolore 

Ch' ora trafigge il core 

Delia Reina nostra. 

Oime, ch' a tal martire lo 

Non e martir eguale. 

lo tremo tutta, io tremo 

Di paura e d' orrore, 

Pensando al fiero e miserabil caso, 

Oime, che due fratelli, 15 

Che sono un sangue istesso, 

Corrano all' arme, e 1' uno e V altro cerchi 

Di sparger il suo sangue ! Ah, cruda Stella, 

Ah, troppo acerba e fella : Ah, reo destino, 

Non consentir che avvenga 20 

Tanta scelleritade : 



Chorus.] 3|0CaSfta 337 

And thou, deare childe, with dolour shalt be- 

waile 
Thy brothers death and mothers all at once. 55 

Joe as t a with Antigone a7id all hir traine (^ex- 
ceptethe Chorus) goeth towards the campe 
by the gates Homoloydes, 

Chorus. 

Whoso hath felt what faith and fervent love 

A mother beares unto hir tender sonnes, 

She and none other sure can comprehende 

The dolefull griefe, the pangs and secret paine, 

That presently doth pierce the princely brest 5 

Of our afflicted Queene : alas ! I thinke 

No martyrdome might well compare with hirs. 

So ofte as I recorde hir restlesse state, 

Alas ! me thinkes I feele a shivering feare 

Flit to and fro along my flushing vaines. 10 

Alas for ruth, that thus two brethren shoulde 

Enforce themselves to shed each others bloud. 

Where are the lawes of nature nowe become ? 

Can fleshe of fleshe, alas ! can bloud of bloud 

So far forget it selfe, as slay it selfe ? 15 

O lowring starres, O dimme and angrie skies, 

O geltie fate, suche mischiefe set aside. 

I hath felt. MS., hath ever felt. faith and, omitted in MS. 
and Q i . 

7 might. MS., may. 17 geltie. MS., Qi, Q3, gilty. 



33^ ^ioca^ta [activ. 

E s' ella avvien, come potro, infelice, 

Pianger T affanno e '1 duolo 

Delia pia genitrice ? 

Anzi la propria morte ; 25 

La miserabil morte 

De' figliuoli, e di lei ? 

E con la morte la ruina espressa 

Delia casa d' Edipo ? 

Ma ecco a noi Creonte 30 

Tutto pien di tristezza, 

Se r interno del cor dimostra il volto 

E tempo ch' io finisca 

Questi giusti lamenti. 

[SCENA 3.] 

CreontCy Nuncio. 

Creonte. Quantunque abbia commesso a mio 
figliuolo, 
Che si parta di Tebe per salvarsi, 
E si gran pezzo e che da me si tolse ; 
Nondimeno io non sto senza paura 
Che, air uscir delle porte, alcun non gli abbia 5 
Impedito '1 cammino, sospettando 
Di qualche tradimento ; e in questo mezzo 
L' Indovin, pubblicando il suo secreto, 
L' abbia fatto cader a quella morte 
Che cercai forsi di schifarli indarno. 10 



Scene III.] 31OCa0Ca 339 

But if supernall powers decreed have 
That death must be the ende of this debate, 
Alas ! what floudes of teares shall then suffise 20 
To weepe and waile the neere approching 

death — 
I meane the death of sonnes and mother both, 
And with their death the ruine and decay 
Of Oedipus and his princely race ! 
But loe, here Creon commes with carefull cheare; 25 
Tis time that now I ende my just complaint. 

Creon commeth in by the gates Homoloydes. 

[SCENA 3.] 

Creony Nuncius. 

l^Creon.'] Although I straightly charg[d]e my 
tender childe 
To flee from Thebes for safegarde of him selfe. 
And that long since he parted from my sight. 
Yet doe I greatly hang in lingring doubt 
Least, passing through the gates, the privie watch 5 
Hath stayed him by some suspect of treason. 
And so therewhile the prophets having skride 
His hidden fate, he purchast have the death 
Which I by all meanes sought he might 
eschewe ; 

I chargde. MS., chardgde. Qi, chargde. Q2, Q3, charge. 
z flee. MS., Qi, flie. 



340 <f5ioca0ta (act iv. 

E tanto io temo piu di questo fine, 

Quanto poc' anzi la vittoria ho intesa 

Ottenuta da noi nel primo assalto. 

Ma r uom prudente con pazienza deve 

Sostener ogni colpo di Fortuna. 15 

Nuncio, Oime, chi fia colui che mi dimostri 
Ov' e il fratel della Reina nostra ? 
Ma ecco, ch' egli e qui tutto sospeso. 

Cre. Se '1 cuor del proprio mal fu mai pre- 
sage, 
Certo costui, che di me cerca, apporta 20 

(Misero me) del mio figliuol la morte. 

Nun. Signor, quel che temete appunto e il 
vero, 
Che '1 vostro Meneceo non e piii in vita. 

Cre. Ahi, che non si puo gir contra le stelle : 
Ma non conven a me, ne agli anni miei 25 

Sparger per gran dolor stilla di pianto. 
Contami tu com' egli e morto, e quale 
La forma e stata di sua morte, ch' io 
Ti prometto ascoltar con gli occhi asciutti : 

Nun. Sappiate, Signor mio, che '1 vostro 
figlio 30 

Venne innanzi a Eteocle, e disse a lui 
Con alta voce, che ciascuno intese : 
Re, la vittoria nostra, e la salute 



Scene m.] 3l0CaSfta 341 

And this mischaunce so much I feare the more, lo 
How much the wished conquest at the first 
Fell happily unto the towne of Thebes. 
" But wise men ought with patience to sustaine 
The sundrie haps that slipperie fortune frames." 
Nuncius commeth in by the gates Electro. 
Nuncius. Alas, who can direct my hastie 
steppes 15 

Unto the brother of our wofull Queene ? 
But loe ! where carefully he standeth here ! 
Cre, If so the minde may dread his owne 
mishap, 
Then dread I much, this man that seekes me 

thus 
Hath brought the death of my beloved sonne. 20 
Nun. My lorde, the thing you feare is very 
true. 
Your Sonne Meneceus no longer lives. 

Cre. Alas, who can withstand the heavenly 
powers ? 
Well, it beseemes not me, ne yet my yeares 
In bootelesse plaint to wast my wailefuU teares ; 25 
Do thou recount to me his lucklesse deathe, 
The order, forme and manner of the same. 
Nun. Your sonne (my lorde) came to Eteo- 
cles. 
And tolde him this in presence of the rest : 
" Renoumed king, neither your victorie, 30 



342 ^tOCa0ta [Act IV. 

Delia Citta non e riposta in arme, 

Ma consiste, Signer, nella mia morte : 35 

Cosi ricerca, anzi comanda Giove. 

Onde, sapendo il beneficio ch' io 

Posso far alia patria, ben sarei 

Di si degna Cittade ingrato figlio, 

Se al maggior uopo io ricusassi usarlo. 40 

Qui pria vestei, Signer, la mortal gonna, 

E qui onesto fia ben ch' io me ne spogli. 

Pero, dappoiche cosi piace ai Dei, 

Uccido me, perche viviate voi. 

Cortesi Cittadin, T officio vostro 45 

Sara poi d' onorar il corpo mio 

Di qualche sepoltura, ove si legga : 

Qui Meneceo per la sua patria giace : 

Cosi disse, e col fin delle parole 

Trasse il pugnal, e se 1' ascose in petto. 50 

Cre. Pill non seguir, e la ritorna donde 
Venuto sei. Poiche '1 mio sangue deve 



Scene III] 3|OCa0ta 343 

Ne yet the safetie of this princely realme 

In armour doth consist, but in the death 

Of me, of me, (O most victorious king) — 

So heavenly dome of mightie Jove commaunds. 

I (knowing what avayle my death should yeeld 35 

Unto your grace and unto native land) 

Might well be deemde a most ungratefull sonne 

Unto this worthy towne, if I would shunne 

The sharpest death to do my countrie good. 

In mourning weede now let the vestall nimphes, 40 

With [playnyng] tunes commend my faultlesse 

ghost 
To highest heavens, while I despoyle my selfe, 
That afterwarde (sith Jove will have it so) 
To save your lives, I may receyve my death. 
Of you I crave, O curteous citizens, 45 

To shrine my corps in tombe of marble stone, 
Whereon grave this : Meneceus here doth lie^ 
For countries cause that was content to die.^^ 
This saide, alas ! he made no more adoe. 
But drewe his sword, and sheathde it in his 

brest. 50 

Ore, No more : I have inough ; returne ye 

nowe 
From whence ye came. 

Nuncius returne th by the gates Electra, 
Well, since the bloud of my beloved sonne 

36 Unto. MS., to my. 

41 playnyng. So in MS. Qi, fauning. Q2, Q3, faining. 



344 ^ioca0ta [act iv. 

Purgar 1' ira di Giove, ed esser quelle 

Che solo pace alia Cittade apporti ; 

£ ben anco ragion ch' io sia signore 55 

Di Tebe ; e ne saro forse col tempo 

Per bontade, o per forza. Questo e il nido 

Delle scelerita. La mia sorella 

Sposo il figliuol che prima uccise il padre, 

E di tal empio abbominoso seme 60 

Nacquero i due fratei, ch' or son trascorsi 

Air odio si, ch' o questo, o quel fia spento. 

Ma perche tocca a me ? perche al mio sangue 

Portar la pena degli altrui peccati ? 

O felice quel nuncio che mi dica : 65 

Creonte, i tuoi nipoti ambi son morti : 

Vedrassi alior che differenza sia 

Da Signor a Signor ; e quanto nuoce 

L' aver servito a giovane alcun tempo, 

Io vo di qui, per far ch' al mio figliuolo ^o 

S' apparecchin 1' esequie ; che saranno 

^^ pace. O, place. 



Scene III.] 31OCa0ta 345 

Must serve to slake the wrath of angrie Jove, 

And since his onely death must bring to Thebes 55 

A quiet ende of hir unquiet state, 

Me thinkes good reason would that I henceforth 

Of Thebane soyle should beare the kingly swaye : 

Yea sure, and so I will, ere it be long. 

Either by right or else by force of armes. 60 

Of al mishap loe here the wicked broode ! 

My sister first espoused hath hir sonne 

That slewe his sire, of whose accursed seede 

Two brethren sprang, whose raging hatefull 

hearts 
By force of boyling yre are bolne so sore, 65 

As each do thyrst to sucke the others bloude : 
But why do I sustaine the smart hereof? 
Why should my bloud be spilt for others gilte ! 
Oh, welcome were that messenger to Anymessen- 

me ger is wel- 

That brought me word of both my <^°"^« ^^^t 

° J , ^ brmgeth 

nephewes deathes : tydings of 

Then should it soone be sene in every advance- 
eye, "'"'''• 
Twixt prince and prince what difference would 

appeare. 
Then should experience shewe what griefe it is 
To serve the humours of unbridled youth. 
Now will I goe for to prepare with speede 75 

The funerals of my yong giltlesse sonne, 



34^ ^iocasfta [act iv. 

Debitamente accompagnate forse 
Dair esequie del corpo d' Eteocle. 

CORO. 

Alma Concordia, che, prodotta in seno 

Del gran Dio degli Dei, 

Per riposo di noi scendesti in terra ; 

Tu sola cagion sei 

Che si governi il Ciel con giusto freno, 5 

E che non sia tra gli elementi guerra. 

In te si chiude, e serra 

Virtu tanto possente, 

Che quei regge, e mantiene : 

E da te sola viene 10 

Tutto quel ben che fa 1' umana gente 

Gustar quanto e giocondo 

Questo che da' mortali e detto mondo. 

Tu pria da quel confuso antico stato, 
Privo d' ogni ornamento, 15 

Dividesti la Macchina celeste : 



Chorus] 3lOCa0ta 347 

The which perhaps may be accompanyed 
With th'obsequies of proude Eteocles. 

Cleon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes, 

Finis Actus 4. 



Chorus. 

O blisful concord, bredde in sacred brest 
Of him that guides the restlesse rolling sky, 
That to the earth for mans assured rest 
From heigth of heavens vouchsafest downe to 

flie. 
In thee alone the mightie power doth lie 5 

With swete accorde to kepe the frouning starres 
And every planet else from hurtful! warres. 

In thee, in thee such noble vertue bydes. 

As may commaund the mightiest gods to bend, 

From thee alone such sugred frendship slydes 10 

As mortall wightes can scarcely comprehend : 

To greatest strife thou setst delightfull ende, 

O holy peace, by thee are onely founde 

The passing joyes that every where abound. 

Thou, onely thou, through thy celestiall might, 15 
Didst first of al the heavenly pole devide 



348 €>iocafifta [act iv. 

Tu facesti contento 

Deir influsso, e dell' ordine a lui dato 

Ogni Pianeta : e per te quelle e queste, 

A girar cosi preste, ao 

Stelle vaghe et erranti 

Scoprono agli occhi nostri 

I lor bei lumi santi : 

E tosto che dal mar Febo si mostri, 

Per te lieto et adorno 25 

Risplende il Ciel di luminoso giorno. 

Tu sola sei cagion ch' a Primavera 
Nascano erbette e fiori, 
E vada estate de' suoi frutti carca. 
Tu sola a' nostri cori 30 

Spiri fiamma d' amor pura e sincera, 
Per cui non e la stirpe umana parca 
(Mentre a morte si varca) 
Di propagar sua prole ; 

Tal ch' ogni spezie sempre 35 

Con dolci amiche tempre 
Si perpetua quaggiii fin che '1 Ciel vuole : 
Onde la terra e poi 
D' uomini, e d' animai ricca fra noi. 

Per te le cose umil s' ergono al Cielo, 40 

E ovunque il pie si move, 
Pace tranquilla i cuor soave e cara : 



Chorus.] 3fl<^^30ta 349 

From th'olde confused heape that Chaos hight 
Thou madste the sunne, the moone, and starres 

to glide 
With ordred course about this world so wide; 
Thou hast ordainde Dan Tytans shining light 20 
By dawne of day to chase the darkesome night. 

When tract of time returnes the lustie Ver, 
By thee alone the buddes and blossomes spring, 
The fieldes with floures be garnisht every 

where, 
The blooming trees aboundant fruite do bring, 25 
The cherefull birds melodiously do sing. 
Thou dost appoint the crop of sommers seede 
For mans reliefe to serve the winters neede. 

Thou doest inspire the heartes of princely 

peeres 
By providence proceeding from above, 30 

In flowring youth to choose their worthie feeres. 
With whome they live in league of lasting love, 
Till fearefull death doth flitting life remove, 
And loke, how fast to death man payes his due. 
So fast againe doste thou his stocke renue. 35 

By thee the basest thing advaunced is. 
Thou every where dost grafFe such golden 
peace 



350 ^ioca0ta [activ. 

Per te di gioie nove 

Sempre V uomo e ripieno al caldo e al gelo, 

Ne lo turba giammai novella amara. 45 

Per te sola s' impara 

Vita senza martire : 

E per te al fin si regge 

Con ferma e salda iegge 

Qui ciascun Regno: e non puo mai perire 50 

Mortal Dominio, se '1 tuo braccio eterno, 

Madre di tutti i ben, tiene il governo. 

Ma senza te la Iegge di natura 
Si solverebbe; e senza 

Te le maggior Citta vanno a ruina. 55 

Senza la tua presenza 
La madre col figliuol non e secura, 
£ zoppa la ragion, debole, e china. 
Senza di te meschina 

E nostra vita ogn' ora; 60 

E, s' io dritto discerno, 
II mondo oscuro inferno 
D' ogni miseria : e sasselo oggimai 
Questa nostra Citta piii ch' altra mai. 

Gia mi par di sentir lagrime e pianti 65 

Risonar d' ogni 'ntorno, 
E le voci salir sino alle stelle ; 
Veggio il caro soggiorno 
Quinci e quindi lasciar meste e tremanti, 
E per tutto gridar donne e donzelle. 70 



chorus.1 31oca0ta 351 

As filleth man with more than earthly blisse ; 
The earth by thee doth yelde hir swete in- 
crease ; 
At becke of thee all bloudy discords cease, 40 

And mightiest realmes in quiet do remaine, 
Wheras thy hand doth holde the royall [reine.] 

But if thou faile, then al things gone to wracke ; 
The mother then doth dread hir naturall childe, 
Then every towne is subject to the sacke, 45 

Then spotlesse maids, then virgins be defilde, 
Then rigor rules, then reason is exilde : 
And this, thou woful Thebes, to our great 

paine. 
With present spoile art likely to sustaine. 

Me thinke [s] I heare the wailfull weeping cries 5° 
Of wretched dames in everie coast resound : 
Me thinkes I see, how up to heavenly skies 
From battred walls the thundring clappes re- 
bound : 
Me thinke [s] I heare, how all things go to 

ground ; 
Me thinke [s] I see, how souldiers wounded lye 55 
With gasping breath, and yet they can not dye. 

42 reine. MS., raigne. Qz, raine. 

46 then. Q3, the. 

50, 54» 55 Me thinkes, Qq, Me thinke. MS., Me thinks. 



352 €>tocafifta [activ. 

Gia le nuove empie e felle 

Mi sembra udir, ond' io 

Chiamo felice sorte 

Quella ch' a darsi morte 

Condusse Meneceo, benigno e pio 75 

Verso la patria : e voglia Dio che sia 

Salva col suo morir la Citta mia. 

Santo, cortese Padre, 
A te mi volgo, e sprezzo ogn' altra aita: 
Soccorri alia Citta, che solo puoi. 80 

Fa che V error d' altrui non nuoccia a noi. 



Chorus.] 3|0CaSfta 353 

By meanes wherof, oh swete Meneceus, he 
That gives for countries cause his guiltlesse 

life, 
Of others all most happy shall he be : 
His ghost shall flit from broiles of bloudy strife 60 
To heavenly blisse, where pleasing joyes be 

rife : 
And would to God, that this his fatal! ende 
From further plagues our citie might defend. 

O sacred God, give eare unto thy thrall. 

That humbly here upon thy name doth call, 65 

O let not now our faultlesse bloud be spilt 

For bote revenge of any others gilt. 



Finis Actus quarti. 
Done by F. Kinwelmarshe, 



The order of the laste 
dumbe shewe 

First the stillpipes sounded a very mournful 
melody, in which time came upon the stage a 
woman clothed in a white garment, on hir head 
a piller, double faced, the formost face fair and 
smiling, the other behinde blacke and louring, s 
muffled with a white laune about hir eyes, hir 
lap ful of jewelles, sitting in a charyot, hir legges 
naked, hir fete set upon a great round bal, and 
beyng drawen in by iiii noble personages : she 
led in a string on hir right hand, ii kings crowned, lo 
and in hir lefte hand ii poore slaves very meanly 
attyred. After she was drawen about the stage, 
she stayed a litle, changing the kings unto the 
left hande and the slaves unto the right hand ; 
taking the crownes from the kings heads she 15 
crowned therwith the ii slaves, and casting the 
vyle clothes of the slaves upon the kings, she 
despoyled the kings of their robes, and therwith 
apparelled the slaves. This done, she was 
drawen eftsones about the stage in this order, 20 
and then departed, leaving unto us a plaine type 

3 on. Q3, and on. 



an^e otuer of t\)t lu&tt tiumbe 0lieiDe 355 

or figure of unstable fortune, who dothe often- 
times raise to heigthe of dignitie the vile and 
unnoble, and in like manner throweth downe 
from the place of promotion even those whom 25 
before she hir selfe had thither advaunced : after 
hir departure came in Duke Creon with foure 
gentlemen wayting upon him, and lamented the 
death of Meneceus his sonne in this maner. 



Atto Quinto. 

[SCENA I.] 

CreontCy Coro. 

Creonte, Oime, che far debb' io ? Pianger me 
stesso, 
O la ruina della patria ? intorno 
Di cui veggo si folta e oscura nebbia, 
Ch' io non so se maggior copra V inferno ? 
Pur ora il mio figliuol m' ho visto innanzi 5 

Del proprio sangue orribile e vermiglio, 
Ch' egli, alia patria troppo caro amico, 
E al padre suo fiero nimico, ha sparso, 
A se acquistando un onorato nome, 
E gloria eterna ; a me perpetuo duolo. 10 

La cui morte infelice, or tutta afflitta, 
Piange la casa mia, tal ch' io non veggo 
Cosa che piii T acqueti, o la consoli. 
Et io venuto son, perche Giocasta, 
Mia sorella, benche dolente e mesta, 15 

Per tante sue non comparabil pene, 
Faccia a quel corpo misero il lavacro, 
E procuri per lui che piti non vive 
Quanto si deve : perche a' morti corpi 



Actus [v.] Scena i. 

Creon. Chorus. 

\_Creon.'j Alas! what shall I do ? bemone my 

selfe ? 
Or rue the mine of my native lande, 
About the which such cloudes I see enclosde, 
As darker cannot cover dreadful hell. 
With mine own eyes I saw my own deare 

Sonne 5 

All gorde with bloud of his too bloudy brest, 
Which he hath shed full like a friend, too deare 
To his countrey, and yet a cruell foe 
To me, that was his friend and father both. 
Thus to him selfe he gaynde a famous name lo 
And glory great, to me redoubled payne : 
Whose haplesse death in my afflicted house 
Hath put suche playnt, as I ne can espie 
What comfort might acquiet their distresse. 
I hither come my sister for to seeke, 15 

Jocasta, she that might in wofull wise. 
Amid hir high and overpining cares. 
Prepare the baynes for his so wretched corps, 
And eke for him that nowe is not in life 
May pay the due that to the dead pertaynes ; ao 

^ctus -v. So in MS. and Qi : misprinted iii in Qz and Q3. 



358 ^iOCa0tS IActV. 

Convien, per render lor debito onore, ao 

Far sacrificio all' infernal Plutone. 

Coro. Signer, e assai che la sorella vostra 
E uscita del palazzo, e con la madre 
Antigone fanciulla. 

Cre. E dove sono 

Andate ? 

Coro. Al campo. 

Cre. La cagion di questo ? 25 

Coro. Ha inteso che i figliuol dovevan oggi 
Combatter per cagion di questo regno. 

Cre. L' esequie del figliuol m' hanno condotto 
A non considerar tal cosa, e meno 
A cercar di saperla. 

Coro. Ella n' e andata ; 30 

E penso che fin or sara fornito 
L' empio duel che ne spaventa il core. 

Cre. Ecco di quello che per voi si teme 
Indicio chiaro : e lo dimostra il volto 
Turbato, e tristo di costui che viene. 35 

[SCENA 2.] 

Nuncio, CreontCy Coro. 

Nuncio. Misero me, che dir debb* io ? quai 
voci, 
Quai parole formar? 



Scene II.] 3l0Cafi?ta 359 

And for the honor he did well deserve, 
To give some giftes unto infernall gods. 

Chorus. My lorde, your sister is gone forth 
long since 
Into the campe, and with hir Antigone, 
Hir daughter deare. 25 

Cre. Into the campe ? alas ! and what to do ? 
Cho. She understoode, that for this realme 
foorthwith 
Her sonnes were greed in combate for to joyne. 

Cre. Alas, the funerals of my deare sonne 
Dismayed me so, that I ne did receive 30 

Ne seeke to knowe these newe unwelcome 

newes. 
But loe, beholde a playne apparant signe 
Of further feares ! the furious troubled lookes 
Of him that commeth heere so hastilye. 

ScENA 2. 

Nunciusy CreoTiy Chorus. 

\_Nuncius7[ Alas, alas! what shall I doe? alas! 
What shriching voyce may serve my wofuU 

wordes ? 
O wretched I, ten thousande times a wretch, 
The messanger of dread and cruell death ! 

23 M.y lor d^ your sister is. MS., Your sister is, my lord. 

24 ivitA hir Antigone. MS., Antigone with her. 



360 ^iOtafi?ta [Act v. 

Creonte. Principio tristo. 

Nun. Misero me, misero me piu volte, 
Nuncio di crudelta, nuncio di morte. 

Ore. Appresso 1' altro mal che male apporti ? s 

Nun. I vostri due nepoti, Signor mio, 
Non son piu vivi. 

Cre. Oime, grave ruina 

A me infelice, e alia Citta racconti. 
Real casa d' Edipo, intendi questo ? 
I tuoi cari Signori, i due fratelli, lo 

Oggi son spenti, oggi son giti a morte. 

Coro. Nuova crudele, oime : 
Crudelissima nuova ; 
Nuova da far che queste istesse mura 
Per pieta si spezzasser lagrimando ; 15 

E lo farian, s' avesser senso umano. 

Cre. Oime, giovani indegn[i] 
Di tal calamita : ma ben del tutto 
Misero me. 

Nun. Piu vi parra, Signore, 

D' esser misero, quando intenderete 20 

Maggior miseria. 

Cre. E come, come puote 

Esser di cio miseria altra piij grave ? 

Nun. Con i figliuoli la Reina e morta. 

17 indegni. O, D, indegne. 



Scene n.] 3l0Cafi(ta 36 1 

Creon. Yet more mishap ? and what unhappie 

newes ? 5 

Nun. My lord, your nephues both have lost 

their lives. 
Cre. Out and alas ! to me and to this towne 
Thou doest accompt great ruine and decay. 
You royall familie of Oedipus, 
And heare you this ? your liege and soveraigne 

lordes, 10 

The brethren both, are slayne and done to 
death. 
Chorus. O cruell newes, most cruell that can 
come, 
O newes that might these stony walles provoke 
For tender ruthe to brust in bitter teares. 
And so they would, had they the sense of man. 15 
Cre. O worthy yong lordes, that un- cesers 

worthy were tears. 

Of such unworthy death ! O me moste wretch ! 
Nun. More wretched shall ye deeme your 
selfe, my lord. 
When you shall heare of further miserie. 

Cre. And can there be more miserie than 

this ? 20 

Nun. With hir deare sonnes the Queene hir 

self is slaine. 
Cho. Bewayle, ladies, alas, good ladies, waile 

14 brust. MS. and Qi, burst. 



362 Siotnatn iact v. 

Coro. Piangete, Donne, oime, 
Oime, Donne, piangete : ^5 

Piangete il vostro male 
Senza speranza di gioir piii mai. 

Cre. O misera Giocasta ! 
Oime, che fine acerbo 

Delia tua vita hai sostenuto ? Forse 30 

Hallo permesso il Cielo, 
Mosso dair empie nozze 
Del tuo jfigliuol Edipo ? 
Ben ti dovea iscusare 

Non saper di peccare. 35 

Ma dimmi. Nuncio, dimmi 
La scelierata morte 
Dei due crudi germani, 
A cio sforzati e spinti, 

Non pur dal suo destine, 4° 

M' ancor dalle biasteme 
Del crudo padre loro, 
Nato per nostro danno ; 
D' ogni scelerita nel mondo esempio. 

Nun. Signor, saper dovete come il fine 45 

Delia guerra che fu sotto le mura 
Era successo assai felicemente ; 
Ch' Eteocle cacciato avea gli Argivi 
Con gran vergogna lor dentro i ripari. 
Avvenne poi che si sfidaro insieme 50 

Polinice a battaglia et Eteocle, 



Scene II.] ^I^^CaS^ta 363 

This harde mischaunce, this cruell common evill, 
Ne hencefoorth hope for ever to rejoyce. 

Cre. O Jocasta, miserable mother, 25 

What haplesse ende thy life, alas ! hath hent ? 
Percase the heavens purveyed had the same, 
Moved therto by the wicked wedlocke 
Of Oedipus thy sonne. Yet might thy scuse 
Be justly made, that knewe not of the crime. 30 
But tell me, messanger, oh, tell me „, , , 

' & ' ' We harken 

y^t somtimes 

The death of these two brethren, willingly to 

driven therto ^"^"" "^^^• 

Not thus all onely by their drearie fate, 
But by the banning and the bitter cursse 
Of their cruell sire, borne for our annoy, 35 

And here on earth the onely soursse of evill. 
Nun. Then know, my lorde, the battell that 
begonne 
Under the walles was brought to luckie ende. 
Eteocles had made his [foemen] flee 
Within their trenches, to their foule reproche : 40 
But herewithall the brethren both straightway 
Eche other chalenge[d] foorth into the fielde, 
By combate so to stinte their cruell strife ; 

35 sire. In the MS. a later hand has crossed out sire and sub- 
stituted y^Mer. 

39 foemen. So in the MS. and Ql. Qz, fotemen. 

41 brethren both. Qi, bretheren. 

42 chalenged. MS., challendge. Qq, chalenge. 



364 ^iocasita [act v. 

Ponendo sopra lor tutta la guerra. 

I quai, poiche comparsero nel campo 

Insieme armati, Polinice prima, 

Volgendo gli occhi in verso d' Argo, mosse 55 

Questi air alma Giunon divoti preghi. 

Santa Reina, tu ben vedi come 

Son tuo, dappoi che in matrimonio tolsi 

La figliuola d' Adrasto, e fo dimora 

Nella Greca Citta : s' io ne son degno, 60 

Concedemi ch' i' uccida il mio fratello, 

Concedemi ch' io tinga nel suo sangue 

La vincitrice man. So ch' io dimando 

Certo brutto trionfo e indegne spoglie ; 

Ma cagion me ne da questo crudele. 65 

Pianse la turba, alle parole intenta 

Di Polinice, prevedendo il fine 

Di quel duello : e 1' uno e 1' altro in viso 

Si riguardava stupido e tremante, 

Per la pieta ch' ai giovanetti avea. 70 

Quando Eteocle, riguardando il Cielo, 

Disse : concedi a me, Figlia di Giove, 

Che questa acuta lancia entri nel petto 



Scene II.] JlOCaSfCa 365 

Who armed thus amid the fielde appeard. 

First Polynice, turning toward Greece 45 

His lovely lookes, gan Juno thus beseeche : 

" O heavenly queene, thou seest that since the 

day 
I first did wedde Adrastus daughter deare, 
And stayde in Greece, thy servaunt have I 

bene : 
Then (be it not for thine unworthinesse) 50 

Graunt me this grace, the victorie to winne, 
Graunt me, that I with high triumphant hande 
May bathe this blade within my brothers brest : 
I know I crave unworthy victorie. 
Unworthy triumphes and unworthy spoyles ; 55 
Lo he the cause, my cruell enimie." 
The people wept to heare the wofull wordes 
Of Polynice, foreseeing eke the ende 
Of this outrage and cruell combat tane ; 
Eche man gan looke upon his drouping mate 60 
With mindes amazed, and trembling hearts for 

dread. 
Whom pitie perced for these youthfull knightes. 
Eteocles, with eyes up cast to heaven. 
Thus sayde : 

" O mightie Jove his daughter graunt to me, 65 
That this right hande with this sharpe armed 

launce 

51 this. MS., the. 



366 ^iocasfta [act v. 

Di mio fratello, e gli trapassi il core, 

Tal ch' uccida colui ch' indegnamente 75 

Turba la patria ed il riposo nostro 

Cosi disse Eteocle : e udendo il segno 

Delia lor pugna, 1' uno e V altro mosse. 

Come Serpi, o Leon di rabbia ardenti. 

Ambi a' visi drizzar le aguzze punte : 80 

Ma volse il Ciel che non ebbero effetto. 

Gli scudi si passar, e T aste loro 

Si rupper ambe, e in mille scheggie andaro. 

Ecco, ambi con le spade ignude in mano 

Corrono irati V un delF altro addosso. 85 

Di qua i Tebani, e di la dubbi stanno 

Gli Argivi ; e questi e quel sentono al core 

Maggior paura per la vita d' ambi, 

Che non sentono i due nell' arme afFanno. 

Ai torvi aspetti, ai gravi colpi fieri 90 

Dimostravano ben che nel suo petto 

Fosse quant' odio mai, disdegno, ed ira 



Scene II.] 3|0taS^Ca 367 

(Passing amid my brothers cankred brest,) 

It may eke pierce that cowarde hart of his, 

And so him slea that thus unworthily 

Disturbes the quiet of our common weale." 70 

So sayde Eteocles, and trumpets blowne, 

To sende the summons of their bloudy fighte, 

That one the other fiercely did encounter. 

Like lions two, yfraught with boyling wrath, 

Bothe coucht their launces full agaynst the face. 75 

But heaven it * nolde that there they 

, , , , . ^ Would not. 

should them temte : 

Upon the battred shields the mightie speares 

Are bothe ybroke, and in a thousande shivers 

Amid the ayre flowne up into the heavens : 

Beholde agayne, with naked sworde in hande 80 

Eche one the other furiously assaultes. 

Here they of Thebes, there stoode the Greekes 

in doubt. 
Of whom doth eche man feele more chilling 

dread. 
Least any of the twayne should lose his life 
Than any of the twayne did feele in fight. 85 

Their angry lookes, their deadly daunting blowes 
Might witnesse well that in their heartes re- 

maynde 
As cankred hate, disdayne and furious moode, 

72 %ende. Q3, sounde. 79 fioivne. MS., flewe. 

80 sivorde. Q3, swords. 84 Least. Q3, Lest. 



368 ^tOCafi?ta [Act v. 

Esser possa in due cor di Tigre, e d* Orso. 

Polinice fu il primo ch' a Eteocle 

Feri la destra coscia ; ma la piaga 95 

Giudicata non fu molto profonda. 

Gridaro allor pien di letizia i Greci : 

Ma tacquer tosto ; ch' Eteocle immerse 

La punta della spada a Polinice 

Nel manco braccio disarmato, e nudo 100 

D' ogni riparo, e fuor ne trasse il sangue, 

Che stillante n' usci, fervente, e caldo. 

Ne si fermo, che V umbilico ancora 

D' un' altra punta al suo fratello aperse; 

Onde '1 meschino abbandonando il freno, 105 

Pallido cadde del cavallo in terra : 

Non tarda il nostro Duca ; ma discende 

Anch' ei del proprio, e alF infelice accorre 

Per torre a quel le guadagnate spoglie : 

Et era tanto a dispogliarlo intento ; no 

Siccome quel che si credea d' avere 

Gia la vittoria del fratello ucciso ; 

Che non s' accorse che egli, ch' avea tratto 

In mano il suo pugnale, e '1 tenea stretto 

Con quel vigor che gli restava ancora, 115 

Gli trapasso in un colpo il petto e '1 corej 

93 di Tigre, e cT Orso. O, di Tygre e di Orsa. 



Scene II.] jflOCaS^ta 369 

As ever bred in beare or tygers brest. 

The first that hapt to hurt was Polinice, 90 

Who smote the righte thighe of Eteocles : 

But as we deeme, the blow was nothing deepe. 

Then cryed the Greekes, and lepte with lightned 

harts 
But streight agayne they helde their peace, for 

why ? 
Eteocles gan thrust his wicked sworde 95 

In the lefte arme of unarmed PoUinice, 
And let the bloud from bare unfenced fleshe 
With falling drops distill upon the ground. 
Ne long he stayes, but with an other thrust 
His brothers belly boweld with his blade. loo 

Then wretched he, with bridle left at large. 
From of his horsse fell pale upon the ground ; 
Ne long it was, but downe our duke dismountes 
From of his startling steede, and runnes in hast. 
His brothers haplesse helme for to unlace, 105 

And with such hungry minde desired spoyle, 
(As one that thought the fielde already woonne) 
That at unwares, his brothers dagger drawne 
And griped fast within the dying hand. 
Under his side he recklesse doth receive, no 

That made the way to his wyde open hart. 

92 nothing. MS., not too. 

94 ivhy. MS. and Qi, he. (?) omitted. 

97 bare. MS. and Qi, thinne. lo6 t/ei/rei. MS., ganmynde the. 



370 ^toca0ta [actv. 

Cadde Eteocle allor sopra il fratello, 

E V uno e V altro sanguinoso diede 

Agli Argivi, e ai Teban spettacol fiero. 

Coro. Ah de' nostri Signer misero fine ! i^o 

Cre. Edipo, Edipo, i' piango i tuoi figliuoli, 

Perche son miei nipoti: ma dovrebbe 

Di questa morte in te cader la pena; 

Perche tu sol con le preghiere usate 

Nel danno loro gli hai condotti a morte. las 

Ma segui quanto a raccontar ti resta. 

Nun. Tosto che i due fratei cadder trafitti 

Miseramente dalle proprie mani, 

Versando T un sopra delP altro il sangue ; 

Ecco venir V afflitta madre insieme 130 

Con la vergine Antigone: la quale 

Non si tosto gli vide in quello stato, 

Che d' un misero oime percosse il Cielo. 



Scene n.] 3|OCa0ta 371 

Thus falles Eteocles his brother by, 

From both whose breasts the bloud fast bubling 

gave 
A sory shewe to Greekes and Thebanes both. 
Cho. Oh wretched ende of our unhappie 

lordes ! 1 1 

Cre. Oh Oedipus ! I must bewaile the death 
Of thy deare sonnes, that were my nephewes 

both; 
But of these blowes thou oughtest feele the 

smarte, 
That with thy wonted prayers thus hast brought 
Such noble blouds to this unnoble end. 12 

But now tell on ; what followed of the Queene ? 
Nun. When thus with pierced harts, by their 

owne hands 
The brothers fell and wallowed in their bloud, 
(That one still tumbling on the others gore) 
Came their afflicted mother, then to late, 12 

And eke with hir, chast childe Antygone, 
Who saw no sooner how their fates had falne. 
But with the doubled echo of Alas ! 
She dymmde the ayre with loude complaints and 

cryes : 

123 and. Qi, had. 

124 That one still. MS. and Qi, Th one. 
126 hir. MS. and Qi, her, her. 

129 She dymmde. MS. and Qi, sore dymmed. 



372 ^ioca0ta [act v. 

Ah, diceva, figliuoli, ah, troppo tardo 

Ora e 1' aiuto mio, tardo soccorso i? 

V apporto: e col gridar fu giunta appresso 

I due cari figliuoli, ove piangendo 

Formo lamenti da fermar il Sole. 

La pietosa sorella, anch' ella insieme 

Con la madre rigando ambe le guancie 140 

Di largo pianto, dal profondo petto 

Trasse queste amarissime parole: 

Cari fratelli miei, la madre nostra 

Abbadonate allor che questa sua I 

Gia stanca eta, si debole e canuta, 14:] 

Piu di bisogno avea del vostro aiuto: ] 

Cari fratelli miei, voi ci lasciate 

Ambe senza conforto, e senza pace. 

Al suon di tai lamenti il Signor nostro 

Mando con gran fatica fuor del petto isc 

Un debole sospiro, e alzo la mano. 

Quasi mostrando di voler alquanto 

Racconsolar la madre, e la sorella : 

Ma in vece di parole fuor per gli occhi 

Gli uscir alcune lagrime, e dipoi 15; 



Scene IL] 31OCa0ta 373 

Oh sonnes (quod she), too late came all my 

helpe, 130 

And all to late have I my succour sent : 
And with these wordes upon their carcas colde 
She shriched so, as might have stayed the sunne 
To mourne with hir : the wofull sister eke 
(That both hir chekes did bathe in flowing 

teares) 135 

Out from the depth of hir tormented brest 
With scalding sighes gan draw these weary 

words ; 
O my deare brethren, why abandon ye 
Our mother deare, when these hir aged yeares 
(That of themselves are weake and growne 

with griefe,) 140 

Stoode most in neede of your sustaining helpe ? 
Why doe you leave hir thus disconsolate ? 
At sounde of such hir weeping long lament, 
Eteocles our king helde up his hand, 
And sent from bottome of his wofull brest 145 

A doubled sighe, devided with his griefe. 
In faithfull token of his feeble will 
To recomfort his mother and sister both : 
And in [the] steade of sweete contenting words 
The trickling teares raynde downe his paled 

chekes : 150 

133 shriched. MS., shriked. 142 you. MS., ye. 

149 the. Only in MS. and Qi. 



374 MoCRStn [actv. 

Chiuse le mani, e abbandono la luce. 

Ma rivolgendo Polinice gli occhi 

Alia sorella, ed alia vecchia madre, 

Disse con bassi ed imperfetti accent!: 

Madre, come vedete, io giungo al fine 160 

Deir infelice mio breve cammino : 

Ne mi rest' altro, fuor che di dolermi 

Per vol, ch' io lascio, e per la mia sorella 

In continue miserie, e parimente 

Dolgomi della morte d' Eteocle; 165 

Che, sebben il crudel mi fu nimico, 

Era di voi figliuolo, e a me fratello. 

Or, mentre ambi n* andremo ai Regni Stigi, 

Pregovi, o madre, e tu cara sorella, 

Che procurar vogliate che '1 mio corpo 170 

Abbia nella mia patria sepoltura. 

Or mi chiudete con le vostre mani, 

Madre, quest' occhi, e rimanete in pace; 

Che gia circondan le mie luci intorno 

Le tenebre perpetue della morte. 175 

Cosi disse, et insieme mando fuori 

L' alma ch' era gia in via per dipartirsi. 

Ma la madre, vedendo ambi i figliuoli 

177 gia in via. O, in gia via. 



Scene II.] 31OCa0ta 375 

Then claspt his hands, and shut his dying 

eyes. 
But Polynice, that turned his rolling eyen 
Unto his mother and his sister deare, 
With hollow voyce and fumbling toung thus 

spake : 
" Mother, you see how I am now arryved 155 

Unto the [haven] of mine unhappie ende : 
Now nothing doth remaine to me but this, 
That I lament my sisters life and yours. 
Left thus in everlasting woe and griefe : 
So am I sory for Eteocles, 160 

Who, though he were my cruell enimie. 
He was your sonne, and brother yet to me : 
But since these ghostes of ours must needes go 

downe 
With staggring steppes into the Stigian reigne, 
I you besech, mother and sister bothe, 165 

Of pitie yet, that you will me procure 
A royall tombe within my native realme : 
And now shut up with those your tender 

handes 
These griefFull eyes of mine, whose dazeled light 
Shadowes of dreadfull death be come to close. 170 
Now rest in peace." This sayde, he yeelded up 
His fainting ghost, that ready was to part. 
The mother, thus beholding both hir sonnes 

156 ha-ven. So in MS., Qi, Q3. Q2, heaven. 



376 aiocafi?ta [act v. 

Morti, vinta dal duol, colse il pugnale 

Di Polinice, e si passd la gola, i8o 

E cadde in mezzo ai suoi figliuoli morta, 

Con le deboli man quelli abbracciando; 

Siccome seco in compagnia volesse 

Passar mesta e scontenta all' altra riva. 

Poiche 1' empio destin condusse a morte 185 

Con due cari figliuol la madre insieme, 

Allor tra' nostri, e tra' nemici nacque 

Grave contesa; che ciascun volea 

Che dal suo lato la vittoria fosse. 

Al fin si corse all' arme, e combattendo 19° 

Arditamente d' una e d' altra parte, 

Fuggir gli Argivi, e con fatica pochi 

Si salvar, che ne furo uccisi tanti, 

Ch' altro non si vedea, che sangue, e corpi. 

De' nostri altri restar di fuora intenti 195 

A dipredar e a dispogliar gli uccisi; 

Altri partian tra lor le ricche prede: 

Altri, seguendo Antigone, levaro 

La Reina Giocasta, et i fratelli 

Sopra d' un carro, e qui gli portan ora. 200 

Cosi da un canto la vittoria abbiamo; 



Scene II.] 3|OCa0ta 377 

Ydone to death, and, overcome with dole, 

Drewe out the dagger of hir Pollinice 175 

From brothers brest, and gorde therewyth her 

throte. 
Falling betweene hir sonnes : 
Then with hir feebled armes she doth [e] nfolde 
Their bodies both, as if for company 
Hir uncontented corps were yet content 180 

To passe with them in Charons ferrie boate. 
When cruell fate had thus with force bereft 
The wofull mother and hir two deare sonnes, 
Ail sodenly, allarme ! allarme ! they crye. 
And hote conflict began for to aryse 185 

Betwene our armie and our enemyes : 
For either part would have the victorye. 
A while they did with equall force maintaine 
The bloody fight; at last the Greekes do flie, 
Of whom could hardly any one escape, 190 

For in such hugie heapes our men them slew, 
The ground was coverde all with carcases; 
And of souldiers, some gan spoyle the dead. 
Some other were that parted out the pray. 
And some pursuing. Antigone toke up 195 

The Queene Jocasta and the brethren both. 
Whom in a chariot hither they will bring 

175 Pollinice. Qi, Pollinices. 

176 therenvyth her. MS., their mothers. 

178 enfolde. So in MS. and Qi. Q2, Q3, unfolde. 



37^ ^iocafifta [actv. 

Dair altro piu che i vinti abbiam perduto, 
Poiche miseramente in questa guerra 
I tre nostri Signor perduto abbiamo. 

Coro. Dura infelicita ! Gia non udimmo 205 

Noi de' nostri Signor 1' acerba morte ? 
Ma, quel ch' e piu crudel, veggiamo ancora 
I tre corpi defunti: eccogli avanti. 

[SCENA 3.] 

Antigoney Coro. 

Antigone. Amarissimo pianto, 
Donne, Donne, conviene: 
Convien che ciascaduna, 
Non pur pianga e si dolga 

Ma squarci i crini, e si percuota il volte. 5 

Ecco, fra due figliuoli 
Qui la Reina morta: 
Quella che amaste tanto, 
Quella ch' ad una ad una 

Voi tutte, come figlie, 10 

Nudrir e amar solea : 
Or v' ha lasciate, ahi sorte, 
Con troppo cruda morte, 
Sconsolate, dolenti, e senza aita. 
Ahi, dolorosa vita, 15 

Perche ancor resti in me? dunque ho potuto 
Veder morir colei 
Che mi die questa vita, 



Scene m.] 31ocafi;ta 379 

Ere long : and thus, although we gotten have 

The victory over our enemies, 

Yet have we lost much more than we have 

wonne. Creon exit. 200 

Cho, O hard mishap, we doe not onely heare 
The wearie newes of their untimely death. 
But eke we must with wayling eyes beholde 
Their bodies deade, for loke where they be 

brought. 

SCENA 3. 
Antigone^ Chorus. 

\_Antigone.'^ Most bitter plaint, O ladyes, us 

behoves : 
Behoveth eke not onely bitter plainte. 
But that our heares dyshevylde from our heades 
About our shoulders hang, and that our brests 
With bouncing blowes be all be-battered, 5 

Our gastly faces with our nayles defaced. 

\The bodies are brought in in a chariot.~\ 
Behold, your Queene twixt both hir sonnes lyes 

slayne. 
The Queene whom you did love and honour both. 
The Queene that did so tenderly bring up 
And nourishe you, eche one like to hir owne, ,0 
Now hath she left you all (O cruell hap ! ) 

5 be-battered. MS., to-battered. 



380 ^toca0ta [actv. 

Et io rimaner viva? 

Oime, chi porgera si largo umore ao 

A queste luci afflitte, 

Che basti a lagrimar quanto i' vorrei 

L' interno mio dolore ? 

Coro. Ben crudo e chi non piange, 
O misera fanciulla. 15 

Jnt. Madre, perduto io v' ho, perduto insieme 
Ho i miei cari fratelli. 
O Polinice mio, tu col tuo sangue 
Hai posto fine alia crudel contesa 
Ch' avevi con colui 30 

Che gia ti tolse il Regno ; 
E finalmente t' ha la vita tolta. 
Che non puo 1' ira oime, che non puo 1' ira ? 
Lassa, che far debb' io ? 

Gia voi vivendo, era mia speme viva 35 

Di vedermi gioire 
Di fortunate nozze, 
E sentirmi chiamar donna, e Reina. 
Or col vostro morire 

£ la speranza morta ; 40 

E non spero giammai, 
Se non tormenti e guai, 
Se pur questa mia man fia tanto vile, 
Che non sappia finire 
Questa misera vita. 45 

Coro. Deh, non voler, fanciulla 



Scene III.] 31OCa0ta 38 1 

With hir too cruell death in dying dreade, 
Pyning with pensifenesse without all helpe. 
O weary life, why bydste thou in my breast, 
And I contented be that these mine eyes 15 

Should see hir dye that gave to me this life, 
And I not venge hir death by losse of life ? 
Who can me give a fountaine made of mone. 
That I may weepe as muche as is my will. 
To sowsse this sorow up in swelling teares ? 20 

Chorus. What stony hart could leave for to 
lament ? 

Ant. O Polinice, now hast thou with thy bloud 
Bought all too deare the title to this realme, 
That cruell he Eteocles thee refte. 
And now also hath refte thee of thy life. 25 

Alas ! what wicked dede can wrath not doe ? 
And out, alas, for mee! 
Whyle thou yet livedst, I had a lively hope 
To have some noble wight to be my pheere, 
By whome I might be crownde a royall queene : 30 
But now thy hastie death hath done to dye 
This dying hope of mine, that hope hencefoorth 
None other wedlocke but tormenting woe. 
If so these trembling hands for cowarde dread 
Dare not presume to ende this wretched life. 35 

Cho. Alas, deare dame, let not thy raging griefe 
Heape one mishap upon anothers head! 

28 li-vedst. MS,, lived. 



382 ^iocafifta (actv. 

Infelice e dolente, 
Accrescer danno a danno. 

Ant. Infelice quel giorno 
Che nacque il padre mio ; 5° 

Piu infelice quell' ora 
Che coronato fu Re di Tebani. 
Allor empio Imeneo 
Congiunse oime, con scellerate nozze 
In un medesmo letto 55 

II figliuol e la madre; 
Onde noi siamo nati 
A patir il flagello 
Delli costor peccati. 

O padre, che sei privo 60 

E di luce e di gioia, 
Ascolta, ascolta quelle 
Che tu non puoi vedere; 
In questa parte assai 

Fortunate e felice : 65 

Che se veder potessi 
L' uno e r altro figliuolo ; 
E nel 'mezzo di loro 
La tua consorte, e madre 

Tutti tinti e bagnati 70 

In un medesmo sangue, 
Morresti allor ; e cosi fora estinta 
Tutta la nostra casa : 
Ma pill tosto infelice ; 



Scene III.] 31OCa0ta 383 

Ant. O doleful! day, wherein my sory sire 
Was borne, and yet O more unhappie houre 
When he was crowned king of stately Thebes ! 40 
The Hymenei in unhappie bed 
And wicked wedlocke wittingly did joyne 
The giltlesse mother with hir giltie sonne, 
Out of which roote we be the braunches borne. 
To beare the scourge of their so foule offence. 45 
And thou, O father, thou that for this facte 
Haste torne thine eyes from thy tormented head. 
Give eare to this, come foorth, and bende thine 

eare 
To bloudie newes, that canst not them beholde : 
Happie in that, for if thine eyes could see 50 

Thy sonnes bothe slayne, and even betweene 

them bothe 
Thy wife and mother dead, bathed and imbrude 
All in one bloud, then wouldst thou dye for dole. 
And so might ende all our unluckie stocke. 
But most unhappie nowe, that lacke of sighte 55 
Shall linger life within thy lucklesse brest. 
And still tormented in suche miserie. 
Shall alwayes dye, bicause thou canst not dye. 

Oedipus entreth. 

50 that. MS. and Qi, this. 

Oedipus entreth. MS., Oedipus intrat. 



384 6ioca0ta iact v. 

Che il non veder questo spettacol duro 75 

Cagion sara che serberai la vita 

A perpetui tormenti : 

E tra pena e martire 

Ogn* or morrai, per non poter morire. 

[SCENA 4.] 

EdipOy Antigone, Coro. 

Edipo. Perche, figliuola mia, 
Uscir fai questo cieco 
Dal suo cieco ed oscuro 
Albergo di miserie e di lamenti 
A quella luce chiara 5 

Che di veder fui indegno ? 
E chi potra veder senza tormento 
(Ahi, fato acerbo e forte) 
Questa^ non d' uom, ma immagine di morte ? 

Antigone. Padre, infelice nuova 10 

A vostre orecchie apporto : 
I due vostri figliuoli 
Piu non veggono luce : 
Ne la vostra consorte, 

Che si pietosamente 15 

Era guida e sostegno 
De' vostri ciechi passi, 
Vede piu il lume, oime, di questa vita. 

Edip. O miseria infinita, 



Scene IV.] 31OCa0ta 3^5 

SCENA 4. 

Oedipus, Antigone, Chorus. 

^Oedipus. ~\ Why dost thou call out of this 
darkesome denne, 
The lustlesse lodge of my lamenting yeres, 
(O daughter deare) thy fathers blinded eyes 
Into the light I was not worthy of? 
Of what suche sight (O cruell destenie) 5 

Without tormenting cares might I beholde. 
That image am of deathe and not of man ? 
Antigone. O father mine, I bring unluckie 
newes 
Unto your eares : your sonnes are nowe both 

slayne ; 
Ne doth your wife (that wonted was to guyde 10 
So piteously your staylesse stumbling steppes) 
Now see this light, alas and welaway ! 
Oed. O heape of infinite calamities. 
And canst thou yet encrease when I thought 

least 
That any griefe more great could grow in thee ? 15 
But tell me yet, what kinde of cruell death 
Had these three sory soules ? 

Ant. Without offence to speake, deare father 
mine. 
The lucklesse lotte, the frowarde frowning fate 



386 (3ioa$tn [act v. 

Tu pur accresci, quando ao 

lo pensava che nuovo alto dolore 

Giunger non si potesse 

Alle gravose mie perpetue pene. 

Ma con qual morte, ahi lasso, 

Tre anime meschine 25 

Sono uscite di vita ? 

Jnt. lo lo diro, non per riprender vol, 
Caro e dolce mio padre. 
Quella cattiva sorte 

Che voi fe' nascer, perche deste poi 3° 

Al vostro padre morte, 
£ pervenuta ancor con pene e duoli 
Nei miseri figliuoli. 

Edip. Oime, oime. 

Jnt. E che piangete voi ? 

Edip. I miei figliuoli io piango. 35 

j^nt. P'm piangereste, o padre, 
Se gli vedeste innanzi 
Pallidi e sanguinosi. 

Edip. Gia conosco qual sia stata la morte 
Degli infelici : or segui 4° 

Quella della mia cara, 
Diro madre, o consorte ? 

Jnt. La madre mia, dappoi 
Che vide morti i suoi 

Due cari pegni, 45 

Siccome il duol le avea trafitto il core ; 



Scene IV.] 3|OCa0ta 387 

That gave you life to ende your fathers life, 20 
Have ledde your sonnes to reave eche others 

life. 
Oed. Of them I thought no lesse, but tell 

me yet 
What causelesse death hath caught from me my 

deare — 
What shall I call hir? — mother or my wife ? 
j^nt. Whenas my mother sawe hir deare 

sonnes deade, 25 

As pensive pangs had prest hir tender heart, 
With bloudlesse cheekes and gastly lookes she 

fell; 
Drawing the dagger from Eteocles side, 
She gorde hirselfe with wide recurelesse wounde : 
And thus, without mo words, gave up the ghost, 30 
Embracing both hir sonnes with both hir armes. 
In these affrightes this frosen heart of mine 
By feare of death maynteines my dying life. 
Chorus. This drearie day is cause of many 

evils, 
Poore Oedipus, unto thy progenie ; _ 

The gods yet graunt it may become the cause 
Of better happe to this afflicted realme. 

[^Creo/i entreth,"^ 

Creon entreth. No stage-direction in Qq. MS., Creon intrat. 



388 €>toca0ta [actv. 

Cosi pallida, esangue, 

Col pugnal che passato 

Aveva il manco lato 

Del misero Eteocle, 50 

Si trapasso la gola 

E cadde, oime, senza pur dir parola, 

L' uno e r altro figliuolo 

Con le mani abbracciando : 

Ed io fui tanto cruda, 55 

Che son rimasa viva. 

Coro. Questo giorno infelice 
Alia casa d' Edipo 

E giorno, oime, cagion di molti mali. 
Voglia Dio ch' egli sia 60 

Alia sua gente afflitta 
Cagion di miglior vita. 

[SCENA 5.] 

Creontey EdipOy Antigone. 

Creonte. Donne, lasciate omai querele e 
pianti, 
Che tempo e gia di seppellir il corpo 
Del vostro Re con onorate esequie. 
Tu, Edipo, ascolta quel che dir ti voglio. 
Sappi che per la dote di tua figlia 5 

Antigone ad Emone il tuo figliuolo 
Eteocle lascio, quand' ei morisse, 
Ch' a me, come a fratello di sua madre. 



Scene v.] iflOCa^ta 3^9 

SCENA 5. 

Creon, Oedipus y Antigone. 

[^Creon.'j Good Ladies, leave your bootelesse 

vayne complaynt, 
Leave to lament, cut ofF your wofull cryes ; 
High time it is as now for to provide 
The funerals for the renowmed king : 
And thou, Oedipus, hearken to my wordes. 
And know thus muche, that for thy daughters 

dower 
Antigone with Hemone shall be wedde. 
Thy Sonne our king not long before his death 
Assigned hath the kingdome should descende 
To me, that am his mothers brother borne. 
And so the same might to my sonne succeede. 
Now I, that am the lorde and king of Thebes, 
Will not permit that thou abide therein : 
Ne marvell yet of this my heady will, 
Ne blame thou me : for why ? the heavens 

above. 
Which onely rule the rolling life of man. 
Have so ordeynde; and that my words be true, 
Tyresias, he that knoweth things to come. 
By trustie tokens hath foretolde the towne, 

7 ska/l be. MS., shall altered in a later hand to to be. Ql, 
shall. 



15 



390 ^iocas?ta [act v. 

Pervenisse il dominio de' Tebani, 

E poscia il mio figliuol ne fosse erede : lo 

Ond' io, come Signor e Re di Tebe, 

Non vo' conceder che piu alberghi in lei 

Ne ti maravigliar del voler mio ; 

Ne ti doler di me, perocche '1 Cielo, 

Che volger suol tutte le cose umane, i^ 

Cosi dispone : e ch' io ti parli il vero, 

Tiresia, ch' e indovin di quanto avviene, 

Predetto ha chiaramente alia Cittade 

Che, mentre in Tebe tu farai dimora. 

Da novo mal fia molestata sempre : 20 

Pero ti parti : e non pensar ch' io dica 

Tai parole per odio ch' io ti porti, 

O perche i' sia, che non ti son, nimico ; 

Ma sol per ben di questa terra afflitta. 

Edipo. O crudel mio destin, ben fatto m' hai ^5 
Nascer alle miserie e alle fatiche 
Di questa morte che si chiama vita, 
Pill ch* uom mortal che mai nascesse in terra. 
Non era ancora nato, che mio padre 
Intese, oime, ch' io lo torrei di vita : 30 

Onde appena, meschino, apersi gli occhi, 
Ch' ei mi fece gettar cibo alle fere. 
Ma che ? Pervenni a Real stato : e dopo 
L' uccisi pur, non lo sapendo : e giacqui 
Scellerato marito con mia madre, 35 

Di cui, lasso, n' ebb' io figliuoli, e figlie. 



Scene v.] 3|OCa0ta 391 

That while thou didst within the walles 

remayne, ^o 

It should be plagued still with penurie : 
Wherfore departe, and thinke not that I speake 
These wofull wordes for hate I beare to thee. 
But for the weale of this afflicted realme. 

Oedipus. O foule accursed fate, that hast me 

bredde aS 

To beare the burthen of the miserie 
Of this colde deathe, which we accompt for 

life! 
Before my birth my father understoode 
I should him slea, and scarcely was I borne. 
When he me made a pray for savage beastes. 30 
But what ? I slew him yet, then caught the 

crowne, 
And last of all defilde my mothers bedde. 
By whom I have this wicked offspring got : 
And to this heinous crime and filthy facte 
The heavens have from highe enforced me, 35 

Agaynst whose doome no counsell can prevayle. 
Thus hate I now my life ; and last of all, 
Lo ! by the newes of this so cruell death 
Of bothe my sonnes and deare beloved wife, 
Mine angrie constellation me commaundes 40 

Withouten eyes to wander in mine age. 
When these my weery, weake, and crooked 

limmes 

z6of. Altered in MS. to and. 



392 ^iocasfta IActv. 

E a tal peccato scellerato ed empio 

Sforzommi il Ciel; contra di cui non giova 

Consiglio umano, e m' ha condotto a tale, 

Ch' io porto odio a me stesso. Or finalmente, 4° 

Dopo r aver inteso ambe le morti 

De' miei figliuoli, e della moglie, vuole 

La mia Stella nimica che, senz' occhi, 

E in estrema vecchiezza, errando io vada, 

Quando le membra mie deboli e stanche 45 

Han del riposo lor maggior bisogno. 

O Creonte crudel, perche m' uccidi ? 

Che m' uccidi, crudel, cacciando fuori 

Me della mia Citta. Ma non per questo 

Avverra ch' io ti preghi, e ch' io m' inchini 50 

Nanzi a' tuoi piedi. Tolgami fortuna 

Cio ch' ella puote ; non sara giammai 

Ch' ella mi possa tor 1' animo invitto 

Ch' ebbi in tutti i miei di, tal ch' io discenda 

Per timidezza ad alcun atto vile : 55 

Fa quel che puoi ; io saro sempre Edipo. 

Cre. Ben parli, Edipo, e ti consiglio anch' io 
A serbar 1' alterezza che fu sempre 
Natural del tuo cuore : e ti fo certo 
Che, se baciasti ben queste ginocchia, 60 

Et adoprasti ogni preghiera meco ; 
Non per questo concederti vorrei 
Ch' un' ora sola rimanessi in Tebe. 
Or fate voi, Teban, debite esequie 



Scene V.] 3IOCa0ta 393 

Have greatest neede to crave their quiet rest. 

O cruell Creon, wilt thou slea me so, 

For cruelly thou doste but murther me, 45 

Out of my kingdome now to chase me thus : 

Yet can I not with humble minde beseeche 

Thy curtesie, ne fall before thy feete. 

Let fortune take from me these worldly giftes. 

She can not conquere this courageous heart, 50 

That never yet could well be overcome. 

To force me yeelde for feare to villanie : 

Do what thou canst : I will be Oedipus. 

Cre. So hast thou reason, Oedipus, to say, 
And for my parte I would thee counsell eke 55 
Still to maynteine the highe and hawtie minde, 
That hath bene ever in thy noble heart : 
For this be sure : if thou wouldst kisse these 

knees. 
And practise eke by prayer to prevayle, 
No pitie coulde persuade me to consent 60 

That thou remayne one onely houre in Thebes. 
And nowe prepare, you worthie citizens. 
The funeralls that duely doe pertayne 
Unto the Queene and to Eteocles, 
And eke for them provide their stately tombes. 65 
But Pollynice, as common enimie 
Unto his countrey, carrie foorth his corps 
Out of the walles, ne none so hardie be 
57 ever. Qi, even. 



394 ^iocasfta [act v. 

Alia Reina, ad Eteocle ; e a quelli 65 

Preparate oggimai la sepoltura. 

Ma Polinice, siccome nimico 

Delia patria, portate fuor di Tebe : 

Ne alcuno sia che seppellirlo ardisca ; 

Che per pena n' avra tosto la morte. 70 

Ma fuor della Citta resti insepolto, 

Senza onor, senza pianto, esca agli uccelli. 

Tu, lasciando le lagrime, va dentro, 

Antigone ; e disponti all' allegrezza 

Delle tue nozze : perocche domani 75 

Sarai consorte al mio figliuolo Emone. 

Antigone. Padre, noi siamo in gran miserie 
involti. 
E veramente assai piij piango voi, 
Ch' io non fo questi morti : non che V uno 
Mai sia forse leggiero, e 1' altro grave ; 80 

Ma perche voi, voi sol tutte avanzate 
Le miserie del mondo ad una ad una. 
Ma voi, novo Signor, per qual cagione 
Sbandite il padre mio del proprio seggio ? 
Perche volete ancor che questo afflitto 85 

Corpo deir innocente mio fratello 
Resti privo, meschin, di sepoltura ? 

Ore, Tal legge non e mia, ma d' Eteocle. 

Ant, Ei fu crudel, e voi a obbedirlo sciocco. 

Ore. Obbedir a chi regge e cosa indegna ? 90 

Ant. Indegna, quando il suo comando e in- 
giusto. 



Scene V.] 3|0CaS^ta 395 

On peine of death his bodie to engrave, 

But in the fieldes let him unburied lye, 70 

Without his honour and without complaynte. 

An open praie for savage beastes to spoyle. 

And thou, Antigone, drie up thy teares, 

Plucke up thy sprites, and cheere thy harmelesse 

hearte 
To mariage : for ere these two dayes passe, 75 

Thou shalt espouse Hemone, myne onely heire. 
Antigone. Father, I see us wrapt in endlesse 

woe. 
And nowe muche more doe I your state la- 

mente 
Than these that nowe be dead, not that I thinke 
Theyr greate missehappes too little to bewayle, 80 
But this, that you (you onely) doe surpasse 
All wretched wightes that in this worlde re- 

mayne. 
But you, my lorde, why banishe you with wrong 
My father thus out of his owne perforce ? 
And why will you denye these guiltlesse bones 85 
Of Polinice theyr grave in countrey soile ? 
Cre, So would not I, so would Eteocles. 
Ant. He cruel was, you fonde to hold his 

hestes. 
Cre. Is then a fault to doe a kings com- 

maund ? 
Ant. When his commaunde is cruell and un- 
just. 90 



396 €>iocafifta [act v. 

Cre. Ingiusto e che cestui pasca le fere ? 

Jnt. A lui non si convien pena si grave. 

Cre. Delia patria non fu questi nimico ? 

Jnt. Nemico fu chi V avea spinto fuori. 95 

Cre. Non prese contra la sua patria 1' arme ? 

Ant. Non pecca chi acquistar procaccia il 

suo. 

Cre. Egli mal grado tuo stara insepolto. 

Jnt. lo lo seppelliro con queste mani. 

Cre. Presso di lui seppellirai te ancora. 100 

Jnt. Lode fia due fratei sepolti insieme. 

Cre. Costei prendete, e portatela dentro. 

Jnt. Non pensate ch' io lasci questo corpo. 

Cre. Impedir non potrai quel ch' e ordinato. 

Jnt. Iniqua legge e il far ingiuria ai morti. 105 

Cre. Terra nol coprira, ne dee coprirlo. 



Scene V.] 31OCa0ta 397 

Cre, Is it unjust that he unburied be ? 
Ant. He not deserv'd so cruel punishment. 
Cre. He was his countreys cruell enimie. 
Jnt. Or else was he that helde him from his 

right. 
Cre. Bare he not armes against his native 

land ? 95 

Ant. OfFendeth he that sekes to winne his 

owne ? 
Cre. In spite of thee he shall unburied be. 
Ant. In spite of thee these hands shall burie 

him. 
Cre. And with him eke then will I burie 

thee. 
Ant. So graunt the gods I get none other 

grave loo 

Then with my Polinices deare to rest. 

Cre. Go, sirs, lay holde on hir, and take 

her in. 
Ant. I will not leave this corps unburied. 

\_Pointing to the body of Polynices."^ 
Cre. Canst thou undoe the thing that is de- 
creed ? 
Ant. A wicked foule decree to wrong the 

dead ! 105 

Cre. The ground ne shall ne ought to cover 

him. 

97, 98 In spite of. MS. and Qi, Perforce to. 



39^ ^iocasfta [act v. 

Ant. lo vi prego, Creonte, per 1' amore . . . 

Cre. Non gioveranno a te lusinghe e preghi. 

Ant. Che portaste a Giocasta, mentre visse, 

Cre. Sono le tue parole al vento sparse. no 

Ant. Mi concediate ch' io lo lavi almeno. 

Cre. Questo giusto non e ch' io ti conceda. 

Ant. Carissimo fratel, V empio e crudele 
Non potra far con le sue ingiuste forze 
Ch' io non ti baci ; e questa cara faccia, 115 

E queste piaghe col mio pianto lavi. 

Cre. Deh, semplice fanciulla, e veramente 
Sciocca, non apportar con questi pianti 
Tristo e misero augurio alle tue nozze. 

Ant. Viva non saro mai moglie di Emone. lao 

Cre. Ricusi di esser moglie al mio figliuolo ? 

Ant. Non voglio esser di lui, ne d' altri moglie. 

Cre. Faro che ci sarai, vogli, o non vogli. 

Ant. Ti pentirai d' avermi usato forza. 

Ill concediate. O, concedete. 



Scene V.] ^OtU&tU 399 

Jnt. Creon, yet I beseche thee for the love — 
Cre. Away, I say, thy prayers not prevaile. 
^nt. That thou didst beare Jocasta in hir 

life — 
Cre. Thou dost but waste thy words amid 

the wind. no 

^nt. Yet graunt me leave to washe his 

wounded corps. 
Cre. It can not be that I should graunt thee so. 
Jnt. O my deare Polinice, this tirant yet 
With all his wrongfull force can not , , , 

fordoe, the frutes of 

But I will kisse these colde pale true kyndly 

lippes of thine, ^°''^- 

And washe thy wounds with my waymenting 
teares. 
Cre. O simple wench, O fonde and foolishe 
girle. 
Beware, beware, thy teares do not foretell 
Some signe of hard mishap unto thy mariage. 
Jnt. No, no, for Hemone will I never wed. 120 
Cre. Dost thou refuse the mariage of my 

Sonne ? 
Jnt. I will nor him nor any other wed. 
Cre. Against thy will then must I thee con- 

straine. 
Jnt. If thou me force, I sweare thou shalt 
repent. 



400 ^ioca0ta [act v. 

Cre. E che potrai tu far, ond* io mi penta ? 125 

Ant. Con un coltel recidero quel nodo. 

Cre. Pazza sarai, se te medesma uccidi. 

Ant. Io seguiro lo stil d' alcune accorte. 

Cre. T' intendero, se tu piu chiaro parli. 

Ant. L' uccidero con questa mano ardita. 13° 

Cre. Temeraria, e crudel, ardisci questo ? 

Ant. Perche non debbo ardir si bella impresa ? 

Cre. A che fin, pazza, queste nozze sprezzi ? 

Ant. Per seguir nell' esilio il padre mio. 

Cre. Quel ch' in altri e grandezza e in te 

pazzia. 135 

Ant. Morronne ancor, quando ne fia bisogno. 
Cre. Partiti pria che '1 mio figliuolo ancidi ; 
Esci, mostro infernal, della Cittade. 



Scene v.] 3lOCa0ta 4OI 

Cre. What, canst thou cause that I should 

once repent ? 125 

Ant. With bloudy knife I can this knot un- 

knit. 
Cre. And what a foole were thou to kill thy 

selfe ! 
Jnt, I will ensue some worthie womans 

steppes. 
Cre. Speake out, Antigone, that I may heare. 
Ant. This hardie hande shall soone dispatch 

his life. 130 

Cre. O simple foole, and darste thou be so 

bolde ? 
Ant. Why should I dread to do so doughtie 

deed r 
Cre. And wherfore dost thou wedlocke so 

despise ? 
Ant. In cruel exile for to folow him (pointing 

to Oedipus). 
Cre. What others might beseeme, beseemes 

not thee. 135 

Ant. If neede require, with him eke will I die. 
Cre. Departe, departe, and with thy father 

die. 
Rather than kill my childe with bloudie knife : 
Go, hellish monster, go out of the towne. 

Creon exit. 

130 his. MS., my. 134 pointing to Oedipus. MS. omits. 

Creon exit. MS. omits. 



402 ^iocasfta [act v. 

Edip. lo lodo, figlia, questa tua fortezza. 

Jnt. Non sara mai ch' accompagnata i' sia, 140 
E voi, padre, n' andiate errando solo. 

Edip. Lasciami sol nelle mie pene, figlia: 
E tu, mentre che puoi, resta felice. 

Ant. E chi saria de' vostri passi guida, 
Misero vecchio, e delle luci privo ? 145 

Edip. N' andro, figliuola, ove vorra la sorte, 
Riposando il meschin corpo dolente 
Dovunque gli fara coperta il Cielo : 
Che, in cambio di palagi e ricchi letti, 
Le selve, le spelunche, e gli antri oscuri, 150 

Misero vecchio, mi daranno albergo. 

Jnt. Ahi, dove e, padre mio, la gloria vostra ? 

Edip. Un di mi fe' felice, un di m' ha ucciso. 

Ant, Dunque io saro de' vostri mali a parte. 



Scene V.] 3IOCa0ta 403 

Oed. Daughter, I must commende thy noble 

heart. 140 

Ant. Father, I will not live in rj.^^ ^^^ ^^ 

COmpanie, a childe truly 

And you alone wander in wildernesse. perfourmed. 
Oed. O yes, deare daughter, leave thou me 
alone 
Amid my plagues : be merrie while thou maist. 
Alt. And who shal guide these aged feete of 
yours, 145 

That banisht bene, in blinde necessite ? 

Oed. I will endure, as fatal lot me drives, 
Resting these crooked sorie sides of mine. 
Where so the heavens shall lend me harborough : 
And in exchange of rich and stately towers 150 

The woodes, the wildernesse, the darkesome 

dennes 
Shall be the bowre of mine unhappie bones. 
Jnt. O father, now where is your glorie 

gone ? 
Oed. " One happie day did raise me to re- 
noune, 
One haplesse day hath throwne mine honour 

doune." 155 

Jnt. Yet will I beare a part of your mis- 
happes. 

141 not (I've. MS. and Ql, never come. The . . . per- 

fourmed. Q3 omits, 
147 Oed. MS. omits. 



404 ^ioca^ca [act v. 

Edip. Non conven, send' io vecchio, e tu 

fanciulla. i5S 

Jnt. Ceda, padre, 1' onor alia pietate. 

Edip. Ove e la madre tua? fa ch' io la tocchi : 
Fa che si renda manifesto al tatto 
II mal che gli occhi [ora] veder non ponno. 

Jnt. Qui, padre, e il corpo : qui la man 

ponete. j6o 

Edip. O madre, o moglie, misera egualmente, 
Addolorata madre, 
Addolorata moglie j 
Oime, volesse Dio, volesse Iddio 
Non fossi stata mai moglie, ne madre. 165 

Ma dove giace, o figlia, 
II miserabil corpo 
Deir uno e 1' altro mio 
Infelice figliuolo ? 

Jnt. Qui giacen morti V un dell' altro ap- 
presso. 170 

Edip. Stendi questa mia man, stendila, figlia, 
Sopra i lor visi. 

Jnt. Voi toccate, padre, 

I vostri figli. 

Edip. O cari corpi, cari 

Al vostro padre, e parimente a lui 
Misero, corpi miseri e infelici. 175 

159 ora. O, D, miei. ibj II miserabil corpo. O, I miserabil corpi. 



Scene V.] 3[|OCa0ta 405 

Oed. That sitteth not amid thy pleasant 

yeares. 
Ant, " Deare father, yes, let youth give place 

to age." 
Oed. Where is thy mother ? let me touch 
hir face. 
That with these handes I may yet feele the 

harme i6o 

That these blinde eyes forbid me to beholde. 
Ant. Here, father, here hir corps, here put 

your hande. 
Oed. O wife, O mother, O both wofull 
names, 
O wofull mother, and O wofull wyfe, 
O woulde to God, alas, O would to God, 165 

Thou nere had bene my mother nor my wyfe ! 
But where lye nowe the paled bodies two 
Of myne unluckie sonnes, oh, where be they ? 
Ant. Lo, here they lye, one by an other, 

deade. 
Oed. Stretch out this hand, dere daughter, 
stretch this hande 170 

Upon their faces. 

Ant. Loe, father, here ! lo, nowe you touche 

them both. 
Oed. O bodies deare, O bodies dearely 
boughte 
Unto your father, bought with high missehap. 

157 sitteth. Q3, fitteth. 



4o6 ^ioca0ta [act v. 

Ajit. O carissimo a me nome del mio 
Carisslmo fratello Polinice. 
Deh, perche non poss' io con la mia morte 
Impetrar da Creonte 
Al tuo misero corpo sepoltura ? i8o 

Ed'ip. Or r oracol d' Apollo ha, figlia, efFetto. 

Ant. Prediss' ei nuovi affanni ai nostri 
afFanni ? 

Edip. Ch' Atene esser dovea fin di mia vita. 
Or poiche tu desideri, figliuola, 
Nel duro esilio mio d' esser compagna, 185 

Porgi la cara man, e andiamo insieme. 

Ant. Amato padre, io v' accompagno e guido, 
Debil sostegno, e scorta. 
Per la dubbiosa strada a gran perigli. 

Ed'ip. Al misero sarai misera guida. 190 

Ant. Certo da questa parte eguale al padre. 

Edip. Dove porro questo tremante piede ? 
Porgimi, ahi lasso, porgimi il bastone, 
Sopra del quale io mi sostenga alquanto. 

Ant. Qui, padre, qui 1' antico pie ponete. 1^5 

Edip. Altri io non so incolpar del danno mio, 
Che '1 mio destin crudele : 
Tu solo sei cagion ch' or cieco, e vecchio 



Scene V.] 31OCa0ta 40? 

Ant. O lovely name of my deare Pollinice, 175 
Why can I not of cruell Creon crave, 
Ne with my death nowe purchase thee a grave ? 
Oed. Nowe commes Apollos oracle to passe, 
That I in Athens towne should end my dayes : 
And since thou doest, O daughter myne, desire 180 
In this exile to be my wofuU mate, 
Lende mee thy hande, and let us goe togither. 
Ant. Loe, here all prest, my deare beloved 
father, 
A feeble guyde and eke a simple scowte 
To passe the perills in a doubtfull waye ! 185 

Oed. Unto the wretched be a wretched guyde. 
Ant. In this all onely equall to my father. 
Oed. And where shall I sette foorth my trem- 
bling feete ? 
O reache mee yet some surer stafPe, to steye 
My staggryng pace amidde these wayes un- 

knowne. 190 

Ant. Here, father, here, and here set forth 

your feete. She giveth 

Oed. Nowe can I blame none other him a staffe, 
for my harmes ^"^ stayeth 

But secrete spight of foredecreed fate : J^^ 
Thou arte the cause, that crooked, 
olde and blynde, 

185 in a. MS., of our. 
187 all onely. Q3, alonly. 



4o8 ^iocasfta [act v. 

Me ne vado lontan della mia terra ; 

E pato quel che non dovrei patire. 200 

Ant. Padre mio, la giustizia non riguarda 
Con diritt' occhio i miseri ; e nonsuole 
Gastigar le pazzie di chi comanda. 

Ed'ip, Misero me, quanto mutato io sono 
Da quel ch' io fui. Ben son, ben sono Edipo, 205 
Che trionfo d' alta vittoria in Tebe ; 
Gia temuto e onorato : or (quando piace 
Alia mia Stella) disprezzato, e posto 
Nel fondo, oime, delle miserie umane, 
Tal che del primo Edipo in me non resta 210 

Altro che '1 nome, e questa effigie sola 
Ch' assai piu tosto s' assomiglia ad ombra, 
Ch' forma d' uomo. 

Ant. O caro padre, omai 

Ponete nell' obblio la rimembranza 
Della passata a voi felice vita ; 215 

Che ricordarsi il ben doppia la noia ; 
E sostenete le presenti pene ; 
Perche pazienza alleggerisce il male. 
Ecco, ch' io vengo per morir con voi, 
Non gia come real figlia, ma come 220 



Scene V.] 3|OCa0ta 4O9 

I am exilde farre from my countrey soyle, 195 

And suffer dole that I ought not endure. 

Ant, " O father, father, Justice lyes on justice 

sleepe, sleepeth. 

Ne doth regarde the wrongs of wretchednesse, 
Ne princes swelling pryde it doth redresse." 
Oed. O care full caytife, ho we am I no we 
changd 200 

From that I was ! I am that Oedipus . , r 

-r-i. 11 11-1 • ^ S'asse for 

1 hat wnylome had triumphant vie- brittei beutie 
torie, ^"'^ ^o'" l^sty 

And was bothe dread and honored eke """!«. 

in Thebes ; 
But nowe (so pleaseth you, my froward-e starres) 
Downe headlong hurlde in depth of myserie, 205 
So that remaynes of Oedipus no more, 
As nowe in mee, but even the naked name. 
And lo ! this image that resembles more 
Shadowes of death than shape of Oedipus. 
Ant. O father, nowe forgette the pleasaunt 

dayes 210 

And happie lyfe that you did whylom leade, 
The muse whereof redoubleth but you [r] griefe : 
Susteyne the smarte of these your present paynes 
With pacience, that best may you preserve. 
Lo ! where I come to live and die with you, 215 
Not (as sometymes) the daughter of a king, 

212 your. So in MS., ^i, ^3. Q2, yoo. 



410 ^ioca0ta [actv. 

Abbietta serva, povera, e infelice; 
Acciocche, avendo a sopportar il peso 
Delia miseria si fedel compagn-a, 

I tormenti di voi siano men gravi. 

Edtp. O sola del mio mal dolce conforto. 225 
Jnt. Ogni somma pieta debita e a voi : 

Cosi volesse Iddio 

Che seppellir potessi 

II corpo, oime, di Polinice mio : 

Ma cio non posso : e '1 non poter m' accresce 230 
Doppia pena e martire. 

Edip. Questo onesto desio fallo sentire 
Alle compagne tue : forse ch' alcuna, 
Mossa dalla pieta, cara figliuola, 
Si condurra per far si degno efFetto. 235 

Ant. O padre mio, nella fortuna avversa 
Mal si trova compagno. 

Edip. Or drizziamo il cammin, figliuola, 
adunque 
Verso i piu aspri e piu sassosi Monti, 
Dove vestigio uman non si dimostri ; j^q 

Accio felici chi ci vide un tempo 
Or non ci vegga miseri e mendichi. 

Jnt. Patria, io men vado d' ogni mio ben 
priva 
Nel piu leggiadro fior de' miei verd' anni ; 



Scene v.] 3|0Cafifta 4" 

But as an abject nowe in povertie, 

That you, by presence of suche faithfull guide, 

May better beare the wrecke of miserie. 

Oed. O onely comforte of my cruell happe. 220 
Ant. Your daughters pitie is but due to you : 
Woulde God I might as well ingrave the corps 
Of my deare Pollinice, but I ne maye ; 
And that I can not, doubleth all my dole. 

Oed. This thy desire, that is both good and 
juste, 225 

Im parte to some that be thy trustie frendes 
Who, movde with pitie, maye procure the 
same. 
Ant. " Beleeve me, father, when dame for- 
tune frownes. 
Be fewe that fynde trustie companions.'* 

Oed. And of those fewe, yet one of those 
am I : 230 

Wherefore goe we nowe, daughter, leade the 

waye 
Into the stonie rockes and highest hilles. 
Where fewest trackes of steppings may be 

spyde. 
" Who once hath sit in chaire of dignitie 
May shame to shewe himself in miserie." 235 

Ant. From thee, O countrey, am I forst to 
parte, 
Despoiled thus in flower of my youth. 



412 ^ioca0ta [act v. 

E tu resti in poter del mio nimico. 245 

Ma ben io raccomando, o Donne, a voi 
La sfortunata mia sorella Isrhene. 

Edip. Cari miei Cittadini, ecco che '1 vostro 
Signor, e Re, che alia Citta di Tebe 
Rese quiete, e securezza, e pace ; 250 

Or, come voi vedete, appresso tutti 
Negletto e vile, e in rozzi panni involto, 
Scacciato del terren dov' egli nacque, 
Prende (merce del vostro empio Tiranno) 
Povero peregrin esilio eterno. 255 

Ma perche piango, e mi lamento in darno ? 
Conven ch' ogni mortal sofFra e patisca 
Tutto quel che qua giu destina il Cielo. 

CoRO. 

Con r esempio d' Edipo 

Imparl ognun che regge. 

Come cangia Fortuna ordine, e stile ; 

Tal che '1 basso et umile 

Siede in alto sovente, 5 

E colui che superbo 

Ebbe gia signoria di molta gente 

Spesso si trova in stato aspro et acerbo. 

7.^^ peregrin. O, pellegrino. 



Chorus] 3flOCa0ta 413 

And yet I leave within my enimies rule 
Ismene, my infortunate sister. 

Oed. Deare citizens, beholde ! your ^ mlrrour 

Lord and King, for magis- 

That Thebes set in quiet government, trates. 

Now as you see, neglected of you all. 
And in these ragged ruthfuU weedes bewrapt, 
Ychased from his native countrey soyle, 
Betakes himself (for so this tirant will) 24^ 

To everlasting banishment : but why 
Do I lament my lucklesse lot in vaine ? 
"Since every man must beare with quiet minde 
The fate that heavens have earst to him as- 
signde." 

Chorus. 

Example here, loe ! take by Oedipus, 
You kings and princes in prosperitie. 
And every one that is desirous 
To sway the seate of worldlie dignitie. 
How fickle tis to trust in Fortunes whele : 5 

For him whome now she hoyseth up on hie, 
If so he chaunce on any side to reele. 
She hurles him downe in twinkling of an eye : 
And him againe, that grovleth nowe on ground. 
And lieth lowe in dungeon of dispaire, 10 

Hir whirling wheele can heave up at a bounde, 
5 m. MS. and Qi, is. 



414 ^iocasta [actv. 

Onde, siccome di splendor al Sole 

Cede la bianca Luna, 

Cosi ingegno e virtu cede a Fortuna. 



Chorus] 3|0Ca6fta 415 

And place aloft in stay of statelie chaire. 

As from the sunne the moone withdrawes hir 

face, 
So might of man doth yeelde dame Fortune 

place. 



Finis Actus quinti. Done by G. Gascoigne. 

Done by G. Gascoigne. Qi omits. 



Epilogus 



Lo here, the fruit of high-aspiring minde, 
Who weenes to mount above the mooving 

skies ! 
Lo, here the trap that titles proud do finde ! 
See, ruine growes when most we reach to rise : 
Sweete is the name, and statelie is the raigne 
Of kinglie rule and swey of royall seate, 
But bitter is the tast of princes gaine, 
When climbing heades do hunte for to be great. 
Who would forecast the banke of restlesse toyle, 
Ambitious wightes do freight their brestes with- 

all. 
The growing cares, the feares of dreadfull foyle. 
To yll successe that on such flightes doth fall. 
He would not streyne his practise to atchieve 
The largest limits of the mightiest states. 
But oh, what fansies sweete do still relieve 
The hungrie humor of these swelling hates ! 
What poyson sweet inflameth high desire ! 
Howe soone the hautie heart is pufft with 

pride ! 
Howe soone is thirst of sceptre set on fire ! 
Howe soone in rising mindes doth mischief 

slide ! 

12 To yll. MS. andQi, The evill. doth. MS. and Qi, do. 



epilogus.] 3|oca0ta 4^7 

What bloudie sturres doth glut of honor breede ! 
Thambitious sonne doth oft surpresse his sire : 
Where natures power unfained love should 

spread, 
There malice raignes and reacheth to be higher. 
O blinde unbridled search of sovereintie, 25 

O tickle traine of evill attayned state, 
O fonde desire of princelie dignitie ! 
Who climbes too soone, he ofte repentes too 

late. 
The golden meane the happie doth suffise, 
They leade the posting day in rare delight, 30 

They fill, not feede, their uncontented eyes. 
They reape such rest as doth beguile the [n]ight, 
They not envie the pompe of haughtie traine, 
Ne dreade the dinte of proude usurping swoorde, 
But, plaste alowe, more sugred joyes attaine, 35 
Than swaye of loftie scepter can afoorde. 
Cease to aspire, then, cease to soare so hie. 
And shunne the plague that pierceth noble 

breastes. 
To glittring courtes what fondnesse is to flie, 
When better state in baser towers rests ! 40 

Finis Epilogi. Done by Chr. Telverton. 

21 hreede. Q3, yelde. 26 tickle. MS., fickle. 

32 night. So in MS. and Q3. Qi, Q2, might. 

33 traine. MS. and Qi, reigne. 



41 8 jl^ote 

Note, Reader, that there were in Thebes 
fowre principall gates, wherof the chief and 
most commonly used were the gates called Elec- 
trae and the gates Homoloydes. Thys I have 
thought good to explane ; as also certen words 5 
which are not common in use are noted and 
expounded in the margent. I did begin those 
notes at request of a gentlewoman who under- 
stode not poetycall words or termes. I trust 
those and the rest of my notes throughout the 10 
booke shall not be hurtfull to any reader. 

Note . . . reader. Not in MS. or Qi. 

3 called. Q3 omits. 4 have. Q3 omits. 



i^ote^ to 3Iocasita 

Popularity of the Phoenissae. The reasons for the 
popularity of the Phoenissae and transcripts from it are indicated by 
Paley in the Introduction to his edition of the Greek play ( 1 879) : 
"This play (the longest extant) was very popular in the later 
Greek schools. Its varied action, chivalrous descriptions, and 
double messenger's narrative, first of the general fight between the 
contending armies, secondly of the duel between the brothers and 
the suicide of Jocasta, give a sustained interest to a piece which 
extends to nearly twice the length of the corresponding Aeschylean 
drama. Besides the above claims to our attention, the play fur- 
nishes us with a good example of the poet's fondness for rhetorical 
pleading, in a legal and sophistical exposition of the rights of the 
rival brothers to the throne. The Phoenissae, in fact, is overloaded 
with action. It is like a picture in which a whole panorama is in- 
cluded instead of one definite object." 

A more modern view of the Phoenissae will be found in the last 
essay of A. W. Verrall's Euripides the Rationalist. 

Dolce and Euripides. As will readily be seen on compar- 
ing the Italian version with the Greek text or an English trans- 
lation, Dolce dealt freely with his original, especially in the opening 
of the play and the choruses. But he kept closely to the main lines 
of the action as laid down by Euripides and his arrangement of the 
episodes, as the following abstract of the Phoenissae will show : 
Prologue by Jocasta, lines I- 87 

Paedagogus and Antigone, 88-201 

Parade by Chorus, 202-260 

Polynices and Chorus, 261-300 

Jocasta, Polynices, 301-415 

Jocasta, Polynices, Eteocles, 416-637 

First stasimon, 638-689 

Creon, Eteocles, 690-783 

Second stasimon, 784-833 

Teiresias, Menoeceus, Creon, 834-985 



420 jpotesf 

[Dolce interpolates the Priest's part and ex- 
tends the dialogue between Menoeceus and 
Creon.] 
Soliloquy of Menoeceus, 985-1018 

[Omitted by Dolce] 

Third stasimon, 10 19-1066 

Messenger, Jocasta, 1 067- 128 3 

Chorus, 1 284-1 309 

Creon, Messenger, 1 3 10-1484 

Monody of Antigone, 1485-1537 

CEdipus, Antigone, Creon, 1 5 38-1 766 

Notes on Jocasta in Harvey's Gascoigne. Gabriel 

Harvey, in his copy of Gascoigne, now in the Bodleian Library, 
has some interesting annotations. At the top of the title-page of 
Jocazta he has written : *' The Mirrour of Magistrates. The 
Tragedy of king Gorboduc : penn'd by M. Thomas Sackvil, now 
Lord Buckhurst, and M. Thomas Norton : as the same was 
shew'd before the Queenes Maty, at Whitehall, 1 561. by the 
Gentlemen of the Inner Temple." 

To the motto at the foot of the page, Fortunatus Infoelix, he 
adds : '* lately the posie of Sir Christopher Hatton." 

Beneath the names of the Interloquutors he comments : " An 
excellent Tragedie : full of many discreet, wise & deep considera- 
tions. Omne genus scripti gravitate Tragoedia vincit. " 

At the bottom of the next page, which contains part of the 
dumme shewe, he writes : " Regis Tragici Icon, Philostrato digna 
artifice." 

At the end of the first dumme shewe he adds : " Hora aurea. 
Statii, et Senecae Thebais. " 

I39> 35- Thebs. Here, and in 1. 183, obviously a mono- 
syllable ; but apparently used as a dissyllable in lines 113 and 203 
of this, and 1. 35 of the following scene. Gascoigne adopts the 
same licence as Kinwelmersh. Usually he pronounces the word as 
one syllable (11, i, 45, 61, 383, 468, 516, 559, 578, 597, and 
627 ; II, ii, 79) ; but in 11, ii, 107, it is two syllables. 

143, 70-71. " Experience proves," etc. '* The lines 
marked with initial commas are so distinguished to call the attention 
to some notable sentiment or reflection. — " F.J. C. (Francis 
James Child) in Four Old Plays. 



jliote0 421 

145* ^9- PhocideS land. " Phocis. The early poets are 
in the habit of using the genitive of classical proper names, or the 
genitive slightly altered, for the nominative. Thus Skelton writes 
Zenophontes for Xenophon, Eneidos for Eneis, etc." — F. J. C. u. s. 

157. Scena 2. In the opening speech of this scene, Kinwel- 
mersh enlarges upon his original, as will be seen by comparison 
with the Italian text. 

161. Scena 3. At the top of the page, above the stage- 
direction giving the names, Harvey has here inscribed : '* Seneca 
saepe, the state of princes." He evidently refers to the common- 
places of the preceding speech. 

161,4-5. To whom . . . govenour. These lines are, 
of course, inconsistent with the change made by Kinwelmersh in 
the stage-direction just above, in which he speaks of *' hir govern- 
our," although the Italian text says plainly " Bailo di Polinice." 
The phrase, '* hir governour," is repeated in the stage-direction at 
the end of this scene. The change may have been made deliberately, 
for it is supported by the text of the Phoenissae, from which Dolce 
has departed more in the opening than in any other part of the 
play. It is curious that the word Bailo^ which, as Professor Ma- 
haffy points out, is the regular Venetian title for a governor or tutor, 
did not earlier draw the attention of critics to the Italian origin of 
yocasta. 

167, 71. To trappe him. This broken line was perhaps 
suggested by the irregular metre of this speech in the Italian text. 
In Euripides all Antigone's speeches in this scene are in strophic 
measures, which Dolce apparently attempted to present, in part at 
least, by varying the length of his lines. The English translators 
reduced all except the choruses to blank verse. 

I75> 173- it Standes not, &C. Cf. Laertes' speech to 
Ophelia (^Hamlet i, iii) : "Then weigh what loss your honor may 
sustain, etc." F. J. C. u. s. 

177, 181-190. You cannot be . . . fade away. 

Here again, as will be seen, the Italian original has been extended 
by the translator. 

177-83. Chorus. It will be noticed that the choruses, 
especially those of Kinwelmersh, are more loosely translated than 
the text. 



422 iliotes; 

191, 40. My feebled . . . agonie. My feet enfeebled 
with age and suffering. 

195, 79. mothers due. It is curious to note how from trans- 
lation to translation this passage has lost the beauty and force of the 
original. Readers of Greek should look up the text of the Phoenissae, 
339-357, thus translated by Mr. A. S. Way : 

But thou, my son, men say, hast made affiance 
With strangers : children gotten in thine halls 

Gladden thee, yea, thou soughtest strange alliance ! 
Son, on thy mother falls 

Thine alien bridal's curse to haunt her ever. 

Thee shall a voice from Laius' grave accuse. 
The spousal torch for thee I kindled never, 

As happy mothers use; 

Nor for thy bridal did Ismenus bring thee 

Joy of the bath ; nor at the entering-in 
Of this thy bride did Theban maidens sing thee. 

A curse be on that sin. 

Whether of steel's spell, strife-lust, or thy father 
It sprang, or whether revel of demons rose 

In halls of CEdipus ! — on mine head gather 
All tortures of these woes. 

Dolce's manner of dealing with his original is well illustrated in 
this scene, and E. P. Coleridge's translation (1891) of lines 379- 
424 of the Phoenissae is accordingly appended. It is represented by 
lines 1 3 1-2 1 8 of the English and 130-216 of the Italian text : 

yoc. Some god with fell intent is plaguing the race of CEdipus. 
Thus it all began ; I broke God's law and bore a son, and in an 
evil hour married thy father and thou wert born. But why repeat 
these horrors ? What Heaven sends we have to bear. I am afraid 
to ask thee what I fain would, for fear of wounding thy feelings ; 
yet I long to. 

Pol. Nay, question me, leave naught unsaid j for thy will, 
mother, is my pleasure too. 

Joe. Well then, first I ask thee what I long to have an- 
swered. What means exile from one's country } is it a great evil ? 

Pol. The greatest 5 harder to bear than tell. 

Joe. What is it like ? What is it galls the exile ? 

Pol. One thing most of all ; he cannot speak his mind. 



ipotesi 423 

Joe. This is a slave's lot thou describest, to refrain from utter- 
ing what one thinks. 

Pol. The follies of his rulers must he bear. 

Joe. That too is bitter, to join in the folly of fools. 

Pol. Yet to gain our ends we must submit against our nature. 

Joe. Hope, they say, is the exile's food. 

Pol. Aye, hope that looks so fair j but she is ever in the future. 

Joe. But doth not time expose her futility ? 

Pol. She hath a certain winsome charm in misfortune. 

Joe. Whence hadst thou means to live, ere thy marriage found 
it for thee ? 

Pol. One while I had enough for the day, and then maybe I 
had it not. 

Joe. Did not thy father's friends and whilom guests assist thee ? 

Pol. Seek to be prosperous ; once let fortune lour, and the aid 
supplied by friends is naught. 

Joe. Did not thy noble breeding exalt thy horn for thee ? 

Pol. Poverty is a curse ; breeding would not find me food. 

Joe. Man's dearest treasure then, it seems, is his country. 

Pol. No words of thine could tell how dear. 

Joe. How was it thou didst go to Argos ? What was thy 
scheme ? 

Pol. I know not ; the deitv summoned me thither in accord- 
ance with my destiny. 

Joe. He doubtless had some wise design ; but how didst thou 
win thy wife ? 

Pol. Loxias had given Adrastus an oracle. 

Joe. What was it ? What meanest thou ? I cannot guess. 

Pol. That he should wed his daughters to a boar and a lion. 

Joe. What hadst thou, my son, to do with the name of 
beasts ? 

Pol, It was night when I reached the porch of Adrastus. 

Joe. In search of a resting-place, or wandering thither in thy 
exile ? 

Pol. Yes, I wandered thither ; and so did another like me. 

Joe. Who was he ? he too it seems was in evil plight. 

Pol. Tydeus, son of CEneus, was his name. 

Joe. But why did Adrastus liken you to wild beasts ? 



424 jl^otesf 

Pol. Because we came to blows about our bed. 

yoc. Was it then that the son of Talaus understood the oracle ? 

Pol. Yes, and he gave to us his daughters twain. 

yoc. Art thou blest or curst in thy marriage ? 

Pol. As yet I have no fault to find with it. 

223, 392-93. Tullyes opinyon. Cicero, De offidis, i, 8 : 
Declaravit id modo temeritas C. Caesaris, qui omnia jura divina 
atque humana pervertit, propter eum, quern sibi ipse opinionis errore 
finxerat, principatum. 

The Greek of Euripides [Phoenissae^ 534)) which Gascoigne 
here translates from Dolce, runs : 

cYirep yap aSi/ceij/ XP^> Tvpavvl^os irepi 

Nam si violandum est jus, imperii gratia 
Violandum est : aliis rebus pietatem colas. 

Hos versus Suetonius Julium Caesarem sempei in ore habuisse 
scribit. — Gaspari Stiblini Annotationes. 

Gascoigne' s marginal note is a little astray, in that Cicero does 
not give this maxim as his own view, but merely ascribes it to Caesar. 

223, 393. beare the buckler best. Offer the best de- 
fence or justification. 

225, 410- hir, ambition's. 

227, 415. Equalitie. See note on p. 126. 

227, 419. that other, ambition. 

229, 441. That compts a pompe . . . command. 

That takes pride in absolute rule. 

237, 534-36. For well I wist . . . be callde. These 

three lines are a misunderstanding of the original Italian, which 
may be literally translated : " The cautious general is always supe- 
rior to the rash one ; and you are vile, ignorant, and rash beyond 
every one else. ' ' 

239, 545-46. Good Gods ... to flight. Another mis- 
translation. The Italian merely says : " Alas ! whoever saw any- 
thing more fierce ? " 

255, 56. cammassado. Camisado : *' It is a sudden assault, 
wherein the souldiers doe were shirts over their armours, to know 
their owne company from the enemy, least they should in the 



il^otesf 425 

darke kill of their owne company in stead of the enemy ; or when 
they take their enemies in their beds and their shirts, for it com- 
meth of the Spanish Cami^a, i. e. a shirt." — Minsheu, Diet. 
Etym.y quoted by F. J. C. a. s. 

255,65. As who . . . defence. Do you expect them to 
make no defence ? 

257, 76. to done, to do. Dative of verbal noun. 

257, 81. Well, with the rest. Well with the help of the 
other citizens. 

271,1. Thou trustie guide. " The reader will remember 
Milton's imitation of this passage at the beginning of Samson Ago- 
nistes and Wordsworth's beautiful reminiscence of both poets." — 
F. J. C. u. s. 

279, 86. Venus. The **angrie Queene " was, of course, 
Hera. The mistake in the margin is corrected in a contemporary 
handwriting in the copy of Q3 at the British Museum. 

281, 118-20. I see . . . greene. Dolce seems to have 
taken some details of this sacrificial scene from Seneca. Cf. these 
lines with CEdipus 318-324: 

Non una facies mobilis flammae fuit. 
Imbrifera qualis inplicat varios sibi 
iris colores parte quae magna poli 
curvata picto nuntiat nimbos sinu : 
quis desit illi quisve sit dubites color, 
caerulea fulvis mixta oberravit notis, 
sanguinea rursus, ultimum in tenebras abit. 

285, 150-51, Why fleest . . . fell. This is a very natural 
misunderstanding of the Italian text, but it suggests that Gascoigne 
did not even consult the original Greek, which reads {Phoenissae^ 
898) : KPE. Meivov ri (peiyeis fij T. ■^ tvxv w', dAA' ovk iyiJ^. 
— Cre. Stay ! Why do you fly from me ? — Tei. Fortune flies 
from thee, not I. 

301, 72-73. "A beast . . . life." The second line is an 
addition by Gascoigne. The Italian says merely: '* The man who 
kills himself is mad. ' ' 

305, 103. Thesbeoita. See p. xxviii of the Introduction as 
to the significance of the reading Theshrotia. 



426 jl^otes? 

321, 57. Whose names ye have alreadie under- 

stoode. The names of the captains, although given in Euripides, 
were as a matter of fact suppressed by Dolce. They are given in 
the Latin translation of the Pboenissae, together with the names 
of the seven gates, including the portas Homoloidas and Electras 
portas so often referred to in the stage-directions of the English 
play. 

324, 116. O che forse periscano ambedue. Omitted 

in English version and in O. See note on p. 12,6. 

331, 3. Come forth . . . daunce. A singularly inept ren- 
dering, both in the Italian and the English, of the original Greek. 
Phoenissae, 1270-72 : 

'XI TeKuov, e|€A0', ^AvTiyovr] SSfiwu irapos. 
OvK iu xopej'ats ovSe irapdevevfiacri 
Nvy (Toi TTpox^p^^ Saifi6v(i)v KUTa,(TTacris. 
Daughter Antigone, come forth the house ! 
No dances, neither toils of maiden hands, 
Beseem thee in this hour of heaven's doom. 

(Way's translation.) 

343, 40-42. In mourning weede . . . despoyle my 

Selfe. A ludicrous mistranslation of the Italian, which reads : 
** Here, my lord, I put on the robe of mortality, and here let me 
put it off again with honour." 

375, 164. With staggring . . . Stigian reigne. The 
alliteration of this line is characteristic of Gascoigne. Cf. v, iii, 
5, and V, iv, 11. See Schelling, Life and Writings of George 
Gascoigne, pp. 31-32. 

378, 203-04. Poiche . . . abbiamo. Gascoigne has omit- 
ted the last two lines of the Messenger's speech. 

379-385. Scena 3, Scena 4. As to the metre of these 
scenes see note on p. 169, 1. 71. 

380, 26-27. Madre . . . fratelli. These two lines of the 
Italian are omitted in the English version. 

401, 128. I will ensue . . . steppes. Another instance 
of growing weakness as the translations recede from the original. 
In the Phoenissae (1669) Antigone says : Nu| Sp' eKeluT) AavatSwv 
^' e|6t fjLiav. ** The night (of my marriage) shall add one to the 



0ott& 427 

number of the Danaides." The daughters of Danau3, forced to 
marry the sons of Aegyptus, killed them on their wedding night. 

401, 135. What . . . thee. For this mistranslation Dolce 
was mainly responsible. The Greek reads {PAoenissae, 1674): 

rej/vaiSrijs (toi, fxcapia 5' cv^rri tis 

" Noble thy spirit, yet lurks folly there." — (Way.) 

In the Latin version the original is prosaically but correctly trans- 
lated : Generositas tibi inest, sed tamen stultitia quaedam inest. 

Dolce changes this to a version which may be rendered, " That 
which in others is greatness is madness in thee ' ' ; and Gascoigne 
submissively follows his blind guide. 

413. Chorus. This is Dolce's, though the thought is taken 
from Seneca. The Greek play ends with a "tag" purporting to 
be spoken by the Chorus, not in their assumed character as persons 
in the drama, but in their true character as Athenians contending 
in a dramatic competition. The tag takes the form of a prayer to 
Victory, " O mighty lady. Victory, pervade my life, and cease not 
to give me crowns. ' ' Alluding to the fact that the Pkoenissae gained 
the second prize, it signifies a hope that the play may please readers 
as well as it pleased the judges, and that other successes may fol- 
low. — Verrall, u. s. pp. 169-170. Dolce probably omitted the 
tag because he did not understand its significance, and having to sub- 
stitute something for it, he turned to his favourite author, Seneca. 



■Bibltogmpi^r 



The place of publication is London unless otherwise indicated 

I. TEXTS 

[1568.] JocASTA : A tragedie written in Greke by Euripides, 
translated and digested into Acte by George Gascoign and ffraunces 
Kynwelmershe of Grays ynne. 1 566. [British Museum, Addi- 
tional MSS., No. 34,063.] 

[1573.] A HUNDRETH SUNDRIE FlOWRES BOUNDE UP IN ONE 

SMALL PoESiE. Gathered partely [by translation) in the fyne 
outlandish Gardins of Euripides, Ovid, Petrarke, Ariosto, and others : 
and partly by invention, out of our owne fruitefull Orchardes in 
Englande : Yelding sundrie sweete savours of Tragical, Comical, 
and Morall Discourses, bothe pleasaunt and profitable to the well 
smellyng noses of learned Readers. Meritum petere^ gra've. At 
London, Imprinted for Richarde Smith. 

1575. There were two issues of this edition, differing mainly 
in the title-page. That of the first reads : The Posies of George 
Gascoigne Esquire. Corrected, perfected, and augmented by the 
Authour. 1575. Tarn Marti quam Mer curio. Imprinted at Lon- 
don by H. Bynneman for Richard Smith. These Bookes are to be 
solde at the North-west dore of Paules Church. 
~ The ornament of this title is ungainly and out of harmony with 
the rest of the book. This was probably the reason why it was 
changed, after a certain number of copies had been struck off, for 
the title now ordinarily found, a facsimile of which may be seen 
on p. I. It reads the same as the above as far as the italicised 
motto, after which follows the emblematical device of the book- 
seller, with the initials R.S. and a new imprint: << Printed at 
London for Richard Smith, and are to be solde at the Northweast 
doore of Paules Church." The priority of the issue bearing 
Bynneman' s name on the title-page is indicated by the fact that the 



words at the end of the F/oivers ; << corected, perfected, and 
fivished " are amended to " Corected, perfected, and finished " in 
the other issue. Otherwise the two issues appear to be identical. 
Both have on p. 192 of the TVeedes a curious ornament dated by 
the engraver Jan. 1574(1575 N. S.), which must have been made 
not long before the edition was printed. 

1587. There were two issues of this edition also, the title- 
pages differing only in that one reads The Whole workes, the 
other The pleasauntest workes of George Gascoigne Es^uyre : 
Newlye compyled into one Volume, That is to say: His Flowres, 
Hearbes, Weedes, the Fruites of warre, the Comedie called Sup- 
poses, the Tragedie of Jocasta, the Steele glasse, the Complaint of 
Phylomene, the Storie of Ferdinando Jeron'imi^ and the pleasure at 
Kenelworth Castle. London Imprinted by Abell Jeffes, dwelling 
in the Fore Streete, without Creeplegate, neere unto Grubstreete. 
1587. The difference in title is probably accounted for, as Mr. 
Hazlitt suggests, by the publisher's failure to carry out his inten- 
tion of issuing a complete edition of Gascoigne' s works. 

1773. The Origin of the English Drama. Thomas 
Hawkins. Oxford. 3 vols. Vol. iii contains the Supposes. 

1848. Four Old Plays. Three Interludes: . . . andjocasta 
a Tragedy, by Gascoigne and Kinwelmarsh with an Introduction 
and Notes [by Francis James Child], Cambridge, Mass. 

1869-70. The Complete Poems of George Gascoigne. 
Edited by William Carew Hazlitt. Two Volumes. The Rox- 
burghe Library, 



II. BIOGRAPHICAL 

1577. A Remembraunce of the wel imployed life and 
godly end of George Gaskoigne Esquire. George Whetstone. 

1 691-2. Athenae Oxonienses. Anthony Wood. 

1838-54. Chorus Vatum Anglicanorum. Joseph Hunter. 
British Museum, Additional MSS., No. 24. 487. The life of 
Gascoigne begins on p. 448 of vol. i. 

1858. Athenae Cantabrigienses. C. H. and T. Cooper. 
Cambridge, pp. 374-78 and 565-66. 



430 llBibltograpti^ 

1868. Chronicle of the Life, Works, and Times of G. 
Gascoigne. Edward Arber in English Reprints. 

1893. The Life and Writings of George Gascoigne. 
Felix E. Schelling. Boston, Mass. (Publications of the University 
of Pennsylvania. ) 

1896. The Spoil of Antwerp. Prefatory Note. Edward 
Arber in An English Garner. Vol. viii. (New issue, edited by 
A. F. Pollard, 1903.) 



III. HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL 

In this list are included only •works ha'ving special reference to 
the plays translated bv Gascoigne or the relations befween early Ital- 
ian and English Drama. Useful information of a more general 
character may be gained from the ivorks of AUacci, Cooper Walker^ 
Creizenach^ Fontanini, Gaspary^ Ginguene, Klein, Napoli-Signo- 
relliy Riccoboniy Symonds, Tiraboschi, JVard, Warton, and others. 

1862. Memoria intorno la vita e gli scritti di Messer 
LoDovico Dolce. E. A. Cicogna in Memorie I. R. Instituto Veneto. 
Vol. XI. 

1866. Studi intorno la vita di Lodovico Ariosto. 
Giuseppe Campori in Memorie della regia accademia di science lettere 
ed arti in Modena. Vol 11. Since republished with additions as 
Notizie per la vita di L. Ariosto. (Modena, 1871. Firenze, 
1896.) 

1873. L' IMITAZIONE CLASSICA NELLA COMMEDIA ITALIANA 

DEL XVI. SECOLo. Vincenzo De Amicis. Annali della reale 
scuola normale superiore di Pisa. Nuova edizione riveduta dall' 
autore, 1897. 

1876. Le coMMEDiE d' Ariosto. Gustavo Tirinelli in iVao'ua 
Antologia, in, pp. 533-558. 

1 88 1. Bibliografia Ariostesca. Giuseppe Jacopo Ferrazzi. 



1886. The Influence of Italian upon English Litera- 
ture during the sixteenth and seventeenth Centuries. Jas. 
Ross Murray, Cambridge. (Le Bas Prize Essay.) 



Bibliograpl^^ 431 



1887. Lettere di Lodovico Ariosto. Terza edizione riv- 
eduta ed accresciuta. Antonio Cappelli. Milano. 

1888. COMMEDIE CLASSICHE IN FeRRARA NEL I499. A. 

Luzio and R. Renierin Giornale Storico della Letter atur a Italiana^ 
Vol. XI. 

1890. GlAMBATTISTA GiRALDI E LA TRAGEDIA ITALIANA 

NEL SECOLO XVI. Pietro Bilancini. Aquila. 

1 89 1. Origini DEL TEATRo iTALiANO. Scconda cdizione Hvista 
ed accresciuta. Alessandro D' Ancona. Torino. 

1 89 1. Il teatro ferrarese nella seconda meta del 
SECOLO XVI. Angelo Solerti and Domenico Lanza in Giornale 
Storico della Letteratura Italiana. Vol. xviii. 

1892. Die Anfange der Renaissance Tragodie. Wilhelm 
von Cloetta. (Beitrage zur Litteraturgeschichte des Mittelalters 
und der Renaissance. Vol. ii. ) Halle. 

1892. Zu DEN Opere Minori des Ludovico Ariosto. 
Heinrich Kehrli. (Doctoral thesis, University of Zurich. ) Bern. 

1 894* ^'^ Dekoration der modernen BiJHNE IN Italien 
von den Anfangen bis zum Schluss des XVI. Jahrhunderts. 
Eduard Flechsig. (Doctoral thesis, University of Leipsic. ) 
Dresden. 

1895* The Predecessors of Shakspere. John Churton 
Collins in Essays and Studies (originally published in the S^uarterly 
Revieiv ) . 

1898. BeITRAG zu EINER GeSCHICHTE DER DRAMATISCHEN 

EiNHEiTEN IN Italien. J. Ebncr, Erlangen & Leipzig. 
(^Miinchener Beitrage, xv. ) 

1898. Il Cinquecento. Francesco Flamini. (Storia letter- 
aria d ' Italia scritta da una societa di professori. ) Milano. 

1900. Ferrara e la corte estense nella seconda meta 
DEL SECOLO XVI. Scconda edizione corretta e accresciuta. Angelo 
Solerti. Citta di Castello. 

1901. La TRAGEDIA ITALIANA NEL CINgUECENTO. Michclc 

Biancale. Roma. 

I9OI. StUDIEN iJBER DIE STOFFLICHEN BeZIEHUNGEN DER 
ENGLISCHEN KoMODIE ZUR ItALIENISCHEN BIS LiLLY. Lcvin Lud- 

wig Schiicking. Halle. (Doctoral thesis, University of Got- 
tingen. ) 



432 llBibliogiap^^ 

1902. Complete Works of John Lyly. R, Warwick 
Bond. Note on Italian Influence in Lyly'' s Plays. Vol. 11, pp. 

473-485- 

1902. The Italian Renaissance in England. Lewis 
Einstein. New York. (Columbia University Studies. ) 

1904. La tragedia italiana del cinjjuecento. Ferdinando 
Neri. Firenze. 

1906. The King of Court Poets: A Study of the Life, 
Works and Times of Ariosto. Edmund Gardner. 

The editor regrets that he was not able to consult La commedia 
(L Sanesi) and La tragedia (E. Bertana) in the Storia dei generi 
letterarii italiani^ now in process of publication by Dr. Francesco 
Vallardi, Milan. 



(Klo^siart 



In the abbreviations c stands for Chorus. 



acCOmpt, recount. J. v, 
ii, 8 ; account. S. i, ii, 5 1 ; 
II, i, 1 16 5 III, iii, 61. 

accursing, cursing. J. i, i, 

150. 

acquiet, alleviate. J. v, i, 
14, ivhere the Italian text has 
** acqueti." 

acquite, fulfil. J. m, 1, 22 ; 

relieve. J. 11, ii, 7. 
advertise, inform. J. m, i, 

115. 

affectes, affections. J. i, c, 
1 1 ; passions. J. ii, i, 270 ; 
S. I, iii, 73. 

affray, terrify, y. II, ii, 61. 

allarme ! To arms! J. v, ii, 
184. 

amased, dismayed. J. iv, i, 

76 ; S. II, i, 108. 
apay, appease. J. 11, i, 450. 
availe, profit, advantage. J. 

I, i, 192. 

bandurion, bandores. The 
bandore (modern corruption 
banjo') was a musical instru- 
ment resembling a guitar or 
lute, with three, four, or six 
wire strings, used as a bass to 
the cittern, y. First Dumbe 
Shelve^ 3. 



battailes, battalions, y. I, 

iii, 148. Cf. Henry V^ iv, 

iii, 69. 
baynes, baths, y. v, i, 18. 
beates, abates, impairs, y. 11, 

i, 407. 
become, go, gone. y. m, ii, 

1 00 5 IV, ii, c, 13 ; 5. V, V, 

185. 
berefte, taken away. y. iv, 

i, 13- 
beseeme, become, y. n, i, 

349, 609. 
beshrewe, curse. -S. m, iv, 

65. 
bestad, beset, y. 11, i, 1705 

II, ii, 76. 
betroutht, pledged, y. IV, 

i, 122. 

bewray, betray, y. I, i, 207. 
bibbeler, drinker. S. I, ii, 

39- 
bible r, student of the Bible. 

&. I, ii, 37. 
biased, blazoned, y. 11, i, 

492. 
bobbe, cheat. S. IV, iii, 29. 
bolne, swollen, y. IV, iii, 65. 
boystrous, rough, unwieldy. 

5. I, ii, 76. 
bravely, finely. 5, in, iv, 

18. 



434 



^lo00ar^ 



bribing", cheating, dishonest. 

S. I, iii, loi. 
bronde, brand, sword, y. ii, 

i, lo. 
brouche, ornament. S. i, i, 

21. 

brust, burst. J. V, ii, 14. 
brute, bruit, rumour, j. i, iii, 

176. 
busard, a worthless, stupid, or 

ignorant person. S. 1, iii, 

lOI. 

bydes, endures. J. 11, i, 628. 

cackabed, a coarse term of 
opprobrium. Florio gi'ves it 
as the equi-valent of ** Guazza 
letto." S. IV, vii, 62. 

cammassado, camisado (lit. 
*' an attack in one's shirt "), 
a night attack, originally one 
in which the attacking party 
wore shirts over their armour 
as a means of mutual recogni- 
tion. Gascoigne uses the term 
again in ' ' The Adventures 
of Master F. J. " (Hazlitt, 
I, p. 419). J. II, ii, 56. 

canker, cancer. S. iv, ii, 21. 

cankered, venomous, malic- 
ious, y. V, ii, 67, 88. 

capcase, a small travelling- 
bag. S. IV, iii, 23 ; trans- 
lating yorz/ero. 

caphers, capers. 5. v, iv, 

21. 

careful, anxious, full of care. 
J. I, c, 4 ; v, V, 200. 



carefully, in anxiety. J. iv, 

iii, 17. 
carkasse, body. J. Fourth 

Dumbe Sheive et passim. 
caters, caterers. 5. I, iii, 

30 ; III, i, 70. 
cautels, traps, artifices. L. 

Latin *' cautela" j S. iv, viii, 

84. 
Caytife, wretched, guilty per- 
son, y. v, V, 200 ; S. Ill, 

iii, 68. 
charettes, carts. Fr. cha- 

rette. S. 11, i, 131. 
Chivalrie, cavalry. See Italian 

text. y. IV, i, 82. 
clean, completely, y. 11, i, 

63 J IV, i, 41 ; S. Ill, V, 

29. 
COdpeece, a bagged append- 
age to the front of the hose. 

S. I, iii, 22. 
cods (more correct form^ ^°'^\ 

scrotum. S. 11, iv, 142. 
colling, embracing. S. i, iii, 

84. 
collop, slice, portion. S. iii, 

iii, 88. 
commoditie, advantage, y. 

II, i, 257; III, ii, 31 5 S. v, 

iii, 46. 
companie, comrades. y. 

Fourth Dumbe Shelve, 19. 
conceit, what is conceived in 

the mind. y. 11, i, 358. 
conge, leave, y. in, ii, 113. 
conjecte, conjecture, y. in, 

i, 117. 



<3io&^m 



435 



COnney, rabbit. S. IV, V, 48. 
COntentation, contentment. 

y. II, i, 447 ; 5. I, ii, 44 ; 

I, Hi, no J III, i, 65 ; V, X, 

44- 

COntentations, causes of con- 
tent. J. II, i, 95. 

contrarie, false. S. v, v, 

14 ; V, vi, 10 ; ix, 6. 

controversies, law suits. 

S. IV, viii, 21. 
COrnua {Latin), horns. S. 

Ill, i, 60. 
COrosive, destroyer. J. 11, 

i, 402 -J S. Ill, iii, 62. 
COSterd, head. S. IV, vii, 

63- 

COunsailing, giving legal ad- 
vice. S. I, ii, 68. 

cover, conceal. J. 11, i, 358. 

covered, concealed. y. 11, 
i, 179. 

COystrell, a base fellow. S. 
I, i, 152. 

cracke-halter, one likely to 

crack, or strain a halter, /. e. 
to die by the gallows j also 
playfully, rogue. Cf. crack- 
hemp and crack-rope. S. i, 
iv, 7. 

crusadoe, a Portuguese coin 
bearing the figure of a cross, 
originally of gold, later also of 
silver. S. in, iv, 24. 

cut, a docked or gelded horse. 
'^' v> V, 59. For the expres- 
sion * * call me cut, ' ' cf. 
Twelfth Nighty 11, iii, 203. 



cyndring, reducing to ashes. 
y. II, i, 387. 

Cythren, citterns. The cit- 
tern was an instrument like a 
guitar, but played with a plec- 
trum or quill. y. First 
Dumbe Shelve , 3. 

Dan, dominus. Lord. y. iv, 

c, 20. 
daunting, stunning, y. v, ii, 

86. 
Deane, valley. S. m, iii, 7. 
disease, annoy, displease, y. 

II, i, 142. 
dishonested, dishonoured. S. 

III, iii, 43, translating P, 
*' dishonorato." 

divine, divining, y. The names 
of the InterloquutorSy lO. 

divine, diviner, y. i, i, 39; n, 
ii, 113 J III, i, 46; III, ii, 3. 

dole, sorrow, y. 11, i, 621 j 
V, iii, 53; V, 196, 224. 

dolour, sorrow, y. iv, ii, 54, 
S. I, iii. III. 

Dotipole, blockhead. See 
Murray''s Dictionary, under 
Doddypoll, ivhich is the com- 
mon form in later times. S. I, 
i, 146, IV here Doctor Dotipole 
translates "II Dottoraccio. " 
See also Baker'' s En dymion (N. 
Y. iS^4.) pp. cxxx-i and Note 
No. 2g to Section Ix of War- 
ton' s History of English Poetry 
for the Eliiiabethan play ^ ' The 
Wisdome of Dr. Doddypoll.'''' 



43^ 



<fi>lo0s^ar^ 



drabbe, a dirty and untidy 
woman: a slut, slattern. S. 
V, vi, 7. 

earst, erst, before, y. i, i, 

117; ",c, 5; in, c, 3; V, V, 
249. S. I, i, 40 ; III, ii, II. 

eftsoones, forthwith, y. I, iii, 
59 ; again, y. Ill, ii, 109. 

elde, old age. y. Ill, i, 18. 

election, choice. S. iv, iii, 

54- 
embowde, arched, y. i, ii, 

10. 
emprise, enterprise, y. 11, ii, 

72. 
enpalde, surrounded, y. i, iii, 

158. 
erst, see earst. 
exul, exile, y. i, i, 165. 

fall, happen, y. 11, i, 406 ; 11, 

ii, 95- 
fardell, burden, parcel. S. iv, 

viii, 55. Cf. Hamlet in, i, 76. 
feere, see pheere. 

fell, skin. S. IV, iii, 17. 
fetches, stratagems. S. i, iii, 

100. Cf. Lear, n, iv, 90. 
flowring, flourishing, in full 

bloom, y. IV, i, 13. 
fond, foolish, y. I, iii, 182. S. 

Prologue et passim. 
fordoe, prevent, y. v, v, II4. 
foredrad, dreaded before-hand. 

y. Argument^ 6. 
forwasted, entirely wasted. 

J' "» ',517- 



forworne, worn out. y. iv, 

ii, 37- 

foyle, defeat. J. i, c, 21. Ep- 
ilogue, II. 

fraight, fraught, y. i, i, 95. 

fraught, laden, filled, y. iv, 
i, 66. 

freat, consume, wear away. S. 
V, iii, 10. 

fulkers, usurers. S. 11, iv, 76. 

fumbling, faltering, y. v, ii, 
154. 

fyle, make smooth, y. 11, i, 
247. 

gaulde, gall, torment, y. m, 
c, 4. 

gayson, scarce, 5. I, ii, 94. 

geere, affair, business. S. pas- 
sim. 

gorget, a piece of armour for 
the throat, y. Second Dumbe 
Shelve, 23. 

graffe, engraft, create, y. iv, 

c, 37- 
gramercy, thanks, y. 11, i, 

24; II, ii, 129; III, i, 25. 
granair, granary. S. Ill, iv, 

20, translating "granari." 
gree, pleasure, y. iii, i, 10 1, 
greed, agreed, y. v, i, 28. 
griesly, fearful, terrible, y. i, 

i, 139; 11, I, 20. 

habite, attire. 5. 1, i, 21, 130} 
I, iii, 120. 

halter - sicke, gallows - bird. 

The more correct form seems 



^losffifar^ 



437 



to be halter-sacke, which is 
the original reading in Qi, 
changed, hoive'ver, in the 
' ' Faultes escaped Correction. 

5. Ill, i, 13. 

hap, happen. J. n, ii, 1315 

V, ii, 90. 
happe, fortune, chance. J. 

I, iii, 58 J IV, iii, 145 v, v, 

2,20. 
harbrough, refuge. J. n, 

i, 200 ; V, V, 149. 
harlotrie, scurvy, worthless. 

6. II, iv, 8. 

headie, headstrong. J. II, 

c, 3 J v» V, 14. 
hearciothes, haircloth. J. 

Second Dumbe Shelve, 4. 
herapstring, one who deserves 

the halter. S. iv, ii, 22. 
hent, taken. J. v, ii, 26. 
hest, behest, command, y. i, 

iii, 164 ; II, i, 251, 635 ; 11, 

ii, 122, 135 ; III, ii, 68 ; in, 

c, 51. 
hight, was called. J. iv, c, 

17- 
hoyse, hoist, uplift. J. v, 
c,6. 

I, praesequar, Go, I will fol- 
low. S. V, V, 33. 

impe, offspring, child. J. i, 
i, 54; n, i, 32. 

infracte, unbroken. S. I, ii, 

injurious, insulting. S. iv, v. 



27. Cf. Coriolanus, iii, iii, 
69 : Thou injurious tribune. 
irked, wearied. J. 11, i, 200. 

Jack pack, fellow. S. i, iii, 

last line. 

jarring, quarrelsome. J. i, 
iii, 58. 

jelousie, suspicion, y. I, hi, 
117. 

joyly, lively, well-dressed, hand- 
some. S. I, iii, 43. 

joyning, adjoining, y. iv, i, 
130. 

kallat (more usual Jorm, cal/et'^j 
a term of abuse. S. v, vi, i. 
kind, nature, y. i, c, 13. 

lavish, free-spoken. S. v, v, 

115. 
lese, lose. y. II, i, 26 ; iii, i, 

3. S. Ill, ii,4; V, ii, 42. 
let, prevent. S. iii, iv, 66. 
likes, pleases, y. 11, i, 438. 

liked, pleased. S. iv, iii, 50. 

liketh, S. V, ii, 62. 
lobcocke, a dull, heavy, stu- 
pid fellow. S. II, iii, 18. 
lumpishe, unwieldy, dull. y. 

Ill, ii, 43. 
luskie, lazy, sluggish. S. i, 

i, 150. 
lustlesse, joyless, feeble, y. 

II, i, 65. 

male, trunk. S. IV, iii, 22, 

translating **valigia." 



438 



^lo00ar^ 



matched, mated. S. iv, v, 

34- 

moe, more. J. in, i, 197, 
et passim. 

mould, mole. S. v, v, 176, 
177. 

mumpsimus, properly an error 
obstinately adhered to, in al- 
lusion to the story of the old 
monk, who, when corrected 
for a mistake in his prayers, 
said : "I am not going to 
change my old ' mumpsimus ' 
for your new ' sumpsimus. ' 
S. I, iii, 112, where it ap- 
pears to be merely a term 
of opprobrium, translating V^ 
<< questo tisico vecchio. " 

murre, cold in the head. «S. 
11, iv, 137. 

mustie, damp, gloomy. 11, i, 
569. 

ne, not, nor, passim. 

nill, will not. J. II, ii, 52. 

nonce, occasion. 5. Ill, iii, 

22, 
noysome, tiresome. 5. IV, iii, 

40. 

occupy, profess, be engaged 

in. S. IV, V, 10. 
overpining, distressing. J. 

V, i, 17. 

paine, toil. 5. n, iv, 131, 
paisse, balancing, leverage. J. 
IV, i, 47. 



paled, pallid. J. V, V, 167. 
parle, parley. J. Second Dumbe 

Shercve, 26. Cf. Hamlet, i, i, 

62. 
part, depart. J. 11, i, 6x2; 

V, ii, 172. 
passe, take notice. S. iv, vii, 

66. 
paune, security, pledge. S. 

II, iv, 75, 76. 
pawnes, pledges. J. 11, i, 

453- 
pencion, payment. S. i, i, 

55, IV here the Italian reads 

"pensione." L. L. pensio. 
percase, perchance. J. in, 

i, 145 ; V, ii, 27. S. Pro- 
logue, 7. 
perusing, examining. J. 

Third Dumbe Sheive, 14. 
pestil, pestle. S. IV, vii, 51, 

translating V, " pestel da 

salza. " 
pheere, companion, consort. 

J. I, i, 75 ; II, i, 502 ; IV, 

c, 31 ; V, iii, 29. 
pickling, paltry, trifling. 5. 

I, ii. 73» 74- 

points, laces. S. I, iii, 21. 

politiquely, craftily. J. 
Fourth Dumbe Shelve, 17. 

pollicie, trick. S. I, i, 145. 

posting, hastening, J. Epi- 
logue, 30. 

potestates, authorities, mag- 
istrates. S. Ill, iii, 38 ; IV, 
viii, 48, 53, IV here it translates 
«' Podesta." 



^Iosf0ar^ 



439 



poulters, poulterers. S. in, 
i, 68. 

practise, stratagem. S. iii, 
ii, 25. 

presently, now, at present. 
y. IV, ii, 5 ; S. II, ii, 14. 

prest, ready. J. v, v, 183. 

prickt, decorated, y. 11, i, 
302. 

primero, a game of cards, S. 
Ill, ii, 3. 

proper, peculiar, belonging ex- 
clusively to. y. I, ii, 452. 

purchase, obtain, y. iii, ii, 
9. IV, iii, 8. 

purveyed, provided, predes- 
tined, y. V, ii, 27. 

queane, woman ; often used 
as a term of abuse, equivalent 
to jade, hussy. S. in, iv, 67. 

queynt, strange, far-fetched. 

J- ", ], 257- 
quit, relieve, release, y. iv, 

i, 15- 
quite, quit, give up. S. v, x, 

reade, saying, pronouncement. 

y. I, i, 107. 

reave, take away. y. i, iii, 
100. II, i, 371, 621. V, 
iv, 21 ; deprive, y. i, iii, 
3. IV, ii, 24. 

recknest, givest account of 
S. II, iv, no. 

recorde, remember '^. iv, 
ii, 8. 



recureiesse, without remedy, 
mortal, y. i, i, 3. v, iv, 
29. 

reft, took, or taken away. y. 
Ill, c, 8. V, iii, 24 J be- 
reaved, deprived, y. v, iii, 

rest, remainder, balance, all 
that is left. S. iii, ii, 6, 10. 

ridde, got rid of y. 11, ii, I. 

rood, cross. S. I, ii, 166. 

royst, swagger. S. i, ii, 77. 

runagate, a worthless person, 
vagabond, tramp. Really the 
same ivordas " renegado," but 
early confused ivith " run " 
and '* gate " [street). S. iv, 
vii, 54, translating " fugi- 
tivo. ' ' 

S. Nicolas, famous for his 
piety 5 while still an infant at 
the breast he fasted regularly 
on Wednesdays and Fridays. 
His festival is on Dec. 6. S. 
I, iii, 2. 

scabbed, mean, paltry, worth- 
less. S. Ill, iv, 67. 

scout, outlook, y. II, i, 8. 

Serchers, examiners for local 
duties. S. IV, iii, 20, trans- 
lating " gabellieri." 

set, esteem, y. 11, i, 104. 

sevennight, a week. S. v, 
ii, 65, ix, 16. 

shamefast, modest. The 
older and more correct form of 
** shame-faced." y. iv, i, i. 



440 



^losffifan? 



shift, stratagem. S. iv, i, 21. 
shotterell, a kind of fish. 

S. II, iv, 9, ivhere it trans- 
lates "luccietto" (pickerel). 

silly, simple, guileless, jf. iv, 
ii, 38. 

sithens, since, afterwards, y. 
II, i, 214. 

skride, descried. J. iv, iii, 7. 

slipstring, a careless prodigal 
person ; a truant. S. iii, i, 8. 
Cf Mother Bombie, 11, i : Dro. 
Thou art a slipstring He war- 
rant. Half. I hope you shall 
never slip string, but hang 
steddie (Bond's Lyiy, iii, 
p. 184, U. 54-55)- 

solempne, solemn. y. 
Third Dumhe Sheive^ 16. 

sollicite, plead. S. iv, viii, 
70. 

SOW^SSe, flood, y. V, iii, 20. 

splayde, displayed, y. 11, i, 
386. 

spred, noised abroad, y. i, 
i, 12. 

spurlings, smelts. S. 11, iv, 
10. 

stale, decoy, object of allure- 
ment. S. Ill, iv, 61. 

Staunce, position, situation ; 
or perhaps disagreement. S. 
II, iv, 35, ivhere it translates 
** discordia." 

startling, starting, startled. 
y. v, ii, 104. 

Stayde, steadfast, assured, y. 
II, i, 459. 



still-pipes, pipes for playing 
still, ;. e. soft music. Laste 
Dumbe Shenve, I. 

stint, make cease, y. i, i, 
200. V, ii, 43. 

sturres, commotions, disturb- 
ances, y. Epilogue, 21. 

sugred, sweet, y. iv, c, 10, 
Epilogue, 35. S. I, iii, 106. 

SUpernall, supernatural, y. 
I, i, 38. 

suppositorie, a body intro- 
duced into the rectum. S. v, 
X, 63. 

SUrpreSSe, suppress, y. Epi- 
logue, 22. 

supravisour, superviser. S. 
V, ii, 62. 

surcease, cease, y. iv, i, 5, 

suspect, suspicion, y. 11, i, 
6, 445. IV, i, 15, 108; iii, 
6. 

SUStentation, sustenance. 
S. Ill, iii, 78. 

tables, memorandum-book. 

S. I, i. Cf Hamlet, i, v, 107. 
target, shield, y. Second 

Dumbe She-zve, 22. 

teinte, touch, y. v, ii, 76. 

Cf Berner's Froissart, 11, 
clxviii, 470 : They ran to- 
gider, and tainted eche other 
on the helmes. 

therwhile, in the meantime. 
y. I, iii, 124. 

tofore, before. S. in, ii, 15. 

to fuge, took to flight. S. IV, 



^los^sfar^ 



441 



i, 17, ivhere P reads: "ho 

voltato subito le piante. ' ' 
toye, trick. S. II, iv, 91, 

ivhere it translates ** cian- 

cietta." S. V, vi, 44. 
travell, labour. J. Ill, i, 18. 

S. IV, in, 7, xo. V, ii, 4. 
trothlesse, treacherous. J. 

I, iii, 91. 
trotte, contemptuous term for 

an old woman. S. end of 

Act III, V, ii, 54. 
trustlesse, not to be trusted. 

y. II, i, 98. n, i, 398. m, 

i» I. 

ure, use, practice, y. iii, i, 
221. 

Ver, spring, y. IV, c, 22. 
violles, ancient musical instru- 



ments of much the same form 
as violins, y. First Dumbe 
Shelve, 2. 

way, weigh, y. IV, ii, 31. 
weedes, garments, y. v, v, 

243. 
weenes, thinks, y. 1, ii, 

19. Epilogue, 2. 
whelme, overwhelm, y. 11, 

i, 584. 
wher, whereas. S. v, x, 28. 
wrecke, revenge, y. 11, c, 

9- 
wrekefull, revengeful, y. 
II, i, 131. 

yfrought, see fraught, y. 

V, ii, 74. 
yonker, youngster. S. 1, i, 
150. Ill, i, 12. 



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